Sharpening Iron
by WhyMustIWrite
Summary: The road of life is easier to walk with a traveling companion. Some friendships occur naturally and spontaneously. Others take more time and effort, and occasional manipulation from the local expert in psychological torture. This is one of those times.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a sequel to ****Not Over Til The Paperwork Is In****.  
It is not necessary to have read the previous story to enjoy this one, but several references will be made back to the events of ****Not Over...**** that will not be understood otherwise.**

"Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend."  
~Proverbs 27:17

* * *

Umino Iruka sat hunched over the essays on his desk, one hand scribbling comments in the margins, the other massaging his forehead in an attempt to lessen the tension.

Academy teachers were well acquainted with tension. Even in the best of circumstance, they were pulled in conflicting directions: pleasing the prominent ninja clans, setting civilian parents at ease, juggling the demands of the Education Board, and striving to meet the high expectations of the Konoha Council. The politics surrounding the education of the upcoming ninja generation was enough to wear away at even the toughest of men. For an average, clanless chunin, Iruka handled such pressure rather well.

He quickly learned that the pressure greatly increased when said average, clanless chunin became a convicted felon. The Kage's Pardon saved him from imprisonment, but it did not protect from the tedious, and sometimes torturous, process of a re-evaluation of his role as a teacher: every hour of instruction monitored, every lesson plan reviewed and sometimes, to his chagrin, re-written. It had him on edge. Even simple duties, like grading essays, become tenuous tasks where the slightest error left him open to attack. Iruka knew that, were it not for Tsunade's sympathy to his philosophy of teaching, he would have long been dismissed by his superiors with harsher views of the role of a shinobi.

The chunin paused his writing to clench and unclench his fist. It was a miserable winter night and the change in air pressure from their sudden cold front was causing old pains to flare up. A deep ache in his wrist and knuckles forced him to leave his post in search for some pain killers.

Iruka happened to glance out of his window and noticed a lone figure weaving along the shadows of the deserted street.

In Fire Country, it didn't become extremely frigid during their brief winters, but tonight was certainly cold. The wind wailed mournfully, whipping the tree branches and making it feel much chillier than the actual 35˚F/2˚C read by thermometer.

The inky black sky and the dim flicker of the street light offered little by way of illumination. Iruka peered through the glass, his nose centimeters from the cold pane, to get a better look at the sole wanderer.

The drifter was dressed only in a standard shinobi uniform, with nothing extra to protect against the cold. The way he staggered indicated that the stranger was likely intoxicated. Who knew if he'd actually make it home in that condition? And if he fell asleep outside in this weather, hypothermia was a distinct possiblity.

Iruka sighed. He had a tendency to pick up strays, having been one himself for so much of his life. He couldn't very well leave this sloshed shinobi to his fate. Bracing himself as the frosty wind blasted inside, he opened his door and called out. "Oi! You there!"

The figure stopped. Now Iruka could see that the ninja was a male with untamed, light colored hair. When the man finally turned, the sensei blinked in surprise. "Kakashi-san? What are you doing?"

"Goin' home." The jounin slurred faintly.

"You don't look so good," The chunin noted with concern. The lines of weariness etched around his eyes and the absence of the reek of alcohol suggested that the man was ill, rather than inebriated.

The jounin's normally sleepy gaze drooped even more than usual. "Mission. Tired."

Iruka took this to mean that Kakashi had just returned from a mission and was exhausted. He wasn't sure where the jounin lived, but it probably wasn't in this district. "You're not dressed for the cold. Come in and I'll get you something warm to wear." He paused, reconsidering. "In fact, I'll make some tea. Rest for a while before you go home."

Kakashi's visible eye blinked slowly, but he gave no other sign that he heard him.

"Hurry up," Iruka ordered brusquely, "You're letting all the heat out." He turned back inside without checking to see if Kakashi was following, but the still open door was a clear invitation.

After a moment's consideration, the jounin slowly entered, shutting the door behind him. His shaking hand, the result of both fatigue and cold, made the move clumsier than usual. However, when the jounin sensed something hurtling towards his head, that hand reflexively snapped up to catch the object. A small portion of fleece blanket lay bunched in his fist. The rest continued its descent onto Kakashi's face.

From the other side of the fabric, the chunin's voice could be heard. "You can just relax on the couch while I get the tea started and…" Iruka's sentence trailed off. "You're injured."

Inside, under the brighter lighting, Kakashi's sluggishly bleeding wounds became apparent.

"I should get you to the hospital," the sensei began, worry coloring his voice.

"No." The tone was so firm, it brooked no argument. "It's nothing. I'll sleep it off when I get home."

The sensei raised an eyebrow. He gazed at the man appraisingly before deciding that the wounds indeed weren't terribly serious, by shinobi standards. "Those still need to be treated at least." He pointed at the couch again. "Wait there," he said calmly before disappearing into another room.

Kakashi still wasn't sure what he was doing in this house, but his bone-deep fatigue convinced him to go along with the chunin's suggestion. The couch was comfortable, and he struggled to stay awake and keep up his guard.

Iruka reappeared with a medical kit, handing it to the other man. "You know what to do with this, don't you?"

The jounin shot him a mildly affronted look. Iruka took this to mean 'Of course.'

"Good," the sensei smiled, "Get started on sterilizing and bandaging those wounds. When I'm done in the kitchen I'll take care of the gashes on your back."

In his sluggish mind, Kakashi couldn't recall exactly how it happened, but within the hour, he was treated, bandaged, warm, and fed. When Iruka had offered him the salty, reheated stir-fry left over from his dinner, Kakashi surmised that this could be an attempt to get a look at his face. But the chunin hadn't attempted to catch a glimpse while he ate, instead keeping himself busy with throwing away the used supplies, taking inventory of his medical kit, and jotting down a note to buy more antiseptic.

The jounin wondered at the man's actions, then. He was unused to such attention. Growing up on a battlefield, he had often received medical treatment from others. While it had not been ungentle, it was always detached: quick, efficient, and done with the goal of getting the soldier back on the field as soon as possible. Iruka, on the other hand, invested himself particularly in the copynin's comfort as well, if the fleece blanket, pillows, hot tea, and warm food were any indication.

"Will you make it home all right?" the chunin wondered. "I have a spare bedroom if you'd rather spend the night. I'll have it ready in just a few…"

"Don't trouble yourself, Iruka-san," Kakashi interrupted, uncomfortable with the chunin's inexplicably solicitous behavior. "I've imposed on you enough."

"Not at all," Iruka smiled warmly. "What kind of friend would I be, if I didn't trouble myself over your wellbeing?"

Kakashi faltered at the f-word. _That's_ what this was about? Where did Iruka get off calling them friends? They were little more than acquaintances. The pronouncement was rather presumptuous, practically coming from nowhere.

Then again, he supposed there _was_ the whole defending-him-at-trial thing.

And the maneuvering-to-get-him-pardoned thing.

And the eating-out-together-afterwards thing.

Okay, so perhaps they were past the acquaintance phase. But still…"friend" was a strong word.

"Kakashi-san?" Iruka interrupted his reverie. "Are you all right? Perhaps you _should_ just spend the night."

"Thanks, but I assure you that I am capable of making it to my own home. I'm a jounin, not an academy student."

A slight tint of red appeared across the chunin's face. "Ah, yes, of course. Sorry."

As Kakashi made his way to the door, Iruka fetched thick gloves and a scarf from his dresser. "Here. Borrow these. I can find an extra jacket, if you just wait a bit."

"No, these are fine." Kakashi accepted the items. He was about to leave when a stab of conscience prompted him to say something more. "And thanks," he waved an arm vaguely in the direction of the couch, empty dishes, and cast aside blanket. "For all that."

Iruka grinned. "No problem, Kakashi-san. In fact, you're welcome to stop by again the next time you're coming back from a mission."

"Hm." The jounin blinked, then shrugged noncommittally. He held up the borrowed gloves and scarf. "So when do you want 'em back?"

"You could return them to me tomorrow evening at the Missions Desk." Iruka responded, raising an eyebrow. "You know, while you're turning in your _mission report_."

Kakashi nodded, purposely not commenting on the not-so-subtle hint to turn his report in on time. "All right. I'll turn them in together." He stepped outside and donned the articles before disappearing into the shadows.

Iruka shut the door after him, sighing inwardly. He wouldn't delude himself by thinking he'd see his winter items again any earlier than next week.

* * *

While working on a lesson plan in his study, Iruka heard tapping on his living room window. Mission Room workers commonly sent messages to each other via bird summons, so he was not overly concerned.

He became more concerned when he found, not a crane or pigeon, but Kakashi rapping his knuckles against the glass pane. Deactivating the traps, he hastily opened the window and stepped aside to allow the jounin entry.

Despite Kakashi's blasé response to his offer that first winter night three months ago, he continued to stop by Iruka's home after every mission, except when returning completely unscathed. The jounin never explained why he chose to accept the offer, and the chunin never bothered to question it.

Konoha required academy teachers to study first aid and basic field medicine in order to be prepared for emergencies with students. Thus, Iruka was qualified to properly treat minor injuries. Furthermore, he made sure the Copy Nin was fed and at least a little rested before he went on his way. Kakashi was awkward at first, occasionally snapping when he felt overly coddled, but it eventually evolved into a comfortable routine for the two men.

This time, Kakashi was bleeding profusely from a puncture at his side. Even with one hand pressed firmly over the bandaged wound, dark red liquid still managed to seep through the cloth and between his fingers, dripping freely onto the floor.

"Blood is so hard to get off carpet," Iruka murmured, ruefully glancing at the stains as he led the jounin to the couch. After laying the patient down and cutting away a portion of his shirt, the chunin inspected the wound. The sight of blood hadn't alarmed him, but an inspection of the wound certainly did. "Kakashi-san, this is really deep. We need to get to the hospital."

"No."

It was surprising how strong his voice sounded, despite how weak he must be feeling with the blood loss.

"Look, I can guess that you dislike hospitals, Kakashi-san, but I'm not qualified to handle this type of injury alone. You should…"

"I'm _not_ going to the hospital," the jounin insisted. "If you're uncomfortable, you don't have to treat it; I'll go home and…"

"If you say 'sleep it off,' I'll sever your tongue," The chunin threatened. "You need a medic. This could have pierced an organ, and…"

"It didn't," Kakashi interrupted.

"And how would you know?" Iruka threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Trust me, I know." There was no uncertainty in the jounin's voice. "This isn't life threatening, so long as the bleeding stops."

"I don't care. You're going to the hospital whether you like it or not!" With this proclamation, Iruka stood and attempted to pull the man up.

Kakashi resisted. "No. I'm not." His eye narrowed into a glare, daring him to contradict.

Iruka stopped to assess the situation. Clearly, even in his weakened state, forcing the jounin to go anywhere against his will would be a struggle. The bleeding desperately needed to be brought under control, and a struggle would aggravate his wounds, making matters worse. Iruka conceded this battle.

"You're worse than a child," he grumbled, applying pressure to the wound and directed healing chakra to the area. Iruka never was able to heal anything but minor wounds using chakra alone, but hopefully he could stem the tide of blood.

After several daunting minutes, the bleeding was under control. The built-up tension left his shoulders. "All right, now for the blood pill and stitches," Iruka sighed in relief as he retrieved the needed items from his medical kit.

Kakashi noticed, amidst the supplies for treating various ailments, one small pouch filled with lollipops. How teeth-rotting crystallized sugar on a stick qualified as a medical item was beyond him.

Iruka stitched and bandaged the wound, then turned his attention to the less pressing injuries. The Copy Nin was sporting an impressive array of bruises and light burns.

Once he was finished, Iruka sat back and sighed. "That ought to do it." Then he glanced at the wall clock, eyes widening in alarm. "I'm late for my shift at the Missions Desk!"

"Then I should get going." Kakashi began to sit up.

Iruka pushed him back, eliciting a pained grunt from the injured man. "Don't move or the stitches will tear," he ordered. "You stay here and rest. I'll be back in a few hours."

Without waiting for a response, the chunin gathered up his paperwork, set them back down with a scowl at the bloodstains he left on them, darted into the bathroom to wash his hands, re-gathered the papers, and promptly left, activating his traps with a flare of chakra as he did so. All this was done in a burst of speed that one rarely saw a ninja use except on the battlefield.

All that energy wasted, merely because he was late. Kakashi stared at the ceiling thoughtfully. Slowly, the realization pierced through the haze of pain he'd kept hidden from the chunnin.

Iruka had just left him alone in his home.

Of course, the jounin could break into the apartment if he chose. He had done so before, to find information for the trial. But _this_ was different. The chunin had willingly, of his own volition, allowed Kakashi to remain in his apartment entirely unattended. Iruka apparently extended his trust as haphazardly as he did his friendship. That being the case, Kakashi decided it would probably be best to keep close to the sensei. To make sure no one takes advantage of his naivety, of course.

* * *

"Oi, where's Iruka?" Kotetsu grumbled. "My shift ended forty minutes ago."

"It's not like him to be late," Iwashi noted, having taken Izumo's place at the scheduled time. "Something must have come up."

A group of genin, there to pick up a new mission with their jounin sensei, perked up in alarm. "Something bad happened to Iruka-sensei?" one preteen exclaimed worriedly.

Iwashi waved his hands, "No, no, that's not what I said. Only that, if Iruka-san is late, he must have a good reason."

"Maybe he's sick," the young girl fretted.

"Maybe he's hurt," another speculated.

"Maybe he spotted an enemy infiltrator and is even now engaged in a life or death struggle to capture the adversary and protect the village!" exclaimed the genin with an overactive imagination.

"Don't be ridiculous," their jounin sensei scoffed. He tucked their mission scroll into his vest and strode toward the doorway. "Now let's go protect the village by unclogging some rain gutters."

The door to the mission room swung open and a blood-soaked figure slammed into the jounin sensei, sending them both sprawling on the ground. The other turned out to be Iruka, clothes stained with Kakashi's blood, and groaning from the hard fall he'd taken.

"Oh no! Iruka-sensei's _dying_!" The imaginative genin shrieked, dissolving into a fit of hysterical tears.

The chunin attempted to explain that he was, in fact, not dying, but the other two genin paid no heed as they cried out for a medic.

The shinobi who were turning in their mission reports instantly spread out to search the area and secure the perimeter. The chunin workers began hastily securing open documents and throwing up wards to protect against attack.

The mission room was in an upset by the time Tsunade rushed in, having heard the commotion from her office. "_What_ is going on here?" She demanded, her voice piercing through the din.

Everyone in the room stilled, not quite sure themselves what was going on, and not wanting to anger their Hokage by admitting it.

Iruka stood and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "It's my fault, Tsunade-sama. I was late to my shift."

Their leader let her amber eyes trail along Iruka's clothing, taking in the blood stains that had gotten the younger ones in a panic. "I'd like to speak to you in my office, Iruka-san."

"Yes, ma'am." He ducked his head in a polite bow and followed.

The mission room regained order, as everyone went back to what they'd been doing.

"And I guess _I'm_ still stuck here," Kotetsu sighed, dropping his head into his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

Tsunade eyed the chunin with begrudging amusement. "All right, Iruka-san, I understand what happened. But next time, change your clothes before showing up. An extra five minutes won't kill anyone." The Hokage shook her head reprovingly. "And it will spare your kids the panic attack."

Iruka drew his brows together, surprised that she hadn't commented on how he'd taken Kakashi's care upon himself. He floundered between relief at not being censured and curiosity as to why. "So…you're not upset that I didn't force Kakashi-san go to the hospital?"

The Hokage laughed outright. "Iruka-san, I doubt you could force the brat into a hospital if you _tried_."

Tamping down a flare of annoyance at her unflattering assessment, he shook his head, "But his wounds…"

"Needed treatment, which you provided," Tsunade finished for him. "Honestly, I'm just relieved to know he's letting _someone_ provide medical care. Kakashi-san only willingly admits himself into the hospital if his life is truly in immediate danger. Otherwise he normally tends to wounds himself."

"That TIF isn't recorded in his profile," Iruka frowned, using the Mission Department jargon for "Trauma-Induced Fear." Fear of hospitals was not unheard of. The TIFs of Konoha shinobi were cataloged by the Homeland Intelligence Division of the Torture and Interrogation Department, then shared with the Mission Department to help in choosing the best shinobi team for each assignment.

"That's because it's not exactly a fear," Tsunade responded. "Kakashi is not debilitated by the thought of entering a hospital, just too stubborn for his own good. It's more of an intense dislike that has escalated over the years."

Iruka scratched his scar as he mulled over the information. "But what should I do then, if he comes to me with a condition that's beyond my ability to tend?"

"If the brat's dying, he's smart enough to do what he has to, whether he likes it or not," Tsunade assured. "And you could always send for a medical ninja, if you really are worried- especially if you suspect poison."

Somehow that was not a very reassuring response.

Iruka had meant to _help_ Kakashi, not make it easier for him to avoid getting treatment from a competent professional. If something happened to his friend while under his care…

"Tsunade-sama, perhaps I can further my medical training?" Iruka asked. "I've completed First Aid and Level One Field Medicine courses. I won't have time to attend classes, but I could work on a Level Two course on my own, in my free time."

The Hokage tapped her manicured fingernails on her desk. "I don't think that's wise," she hesitated. "Medical jutsu should be taught under the guidance of an instructor, not just a book."

"I'm a teacher; I've always done well with book work," Iruka assured. "And one of the main reasons an instructor is necessary is due to the refined chakra control needed to perform medical jutsu. Chakra control is already one of my strongest attributes."

The chunin seemed to know what he was talking about, the Hokage noted. She stood and surveyed one of the bookshelves in her office. Pulling out the appropriate textbook, she offered it the shinobi. "Here you go, then."

Iruka closed his hands around the book, but Tsunade didn't release it. Instead she stared evenly at him. "I trust you're smart enough to ask a medic for guidance if you run into trouble. I don't want you relying on guesswork."

Only after he agreed, did the leader release the textbook into his possession.

"Thank you, Tsunade-sama." Iruka bowed deeply and left the office, finally relieving an irate Kotetsu from duty.

As Iruka stamped approvals on incoming forms, he turned his schedule over in his mind, trying to find the elusive "spare time" he would invest into his new project. Between teaching in the Academy under evaluation, working the Missions Desk, grading papers, composing lessons and exams, and tutoring civilian children, he was hard pressed for time as it was. Then there were tasks like cooking, cleaning, shopping, and laundry, that simply needed to be done. It was possible to hire a genin team to do his chores, but he'd _taught_ those kids once. He certainly didn't want former students in pranking distance of his food or laundry.

Of course, he _did_ visit a hot spring once or twice a week in order to unwind. Lately, that had instead become a time to sit and worry over his reassessment. He would gladly do away with that. Also, he tried to spend at least an hour with Konohamaru on Tuesday nights when they went out for ramen. But he'd been finding it increasingly difficult to sit idle that long. If he cut it down to forty minutes…

* * *

Ibiki entered Tsunade's office, bowing once before placing a thick folder onto her desk and sliding it toward her. "The Jounin Evaluation Reports, Hokage-sama."

Tsunade accepted the folder and flipped through it silently for a few moments. Every other year, the Homeland Intelligence Division of T&I conducted psychological examinations of all ninja jounin level or higher. Chunin, generally the more mentally stable group, were examined every three years. The results were filed with the Torture and Interrogation Department, and anything of concern was placed in a folder for the Hokage to review before it would be filed.

Tsunade was about to dismiss the head interrogator, when a particular report caught her eye. "Hatake Kakashi?" Her eyes narrowed. "Why is _he_ in this folder?"

Ibiki took a moment to recall the results of that review. "It's nothing drastic, Tsunade-sama. It concerns a deterioration of his social health."

"Social health?" Tsunade repeated dubiously. "We're talking about _Kakashi_ here."

Ibiki smiled grimly. "I know. Hatake-san has always been socially withdrawn, which is to be expected considering his personal history. He rarely interacts with others beyond mission-related business. His books, and visits to the Memorial Stone, replace societal ties and activities. This was not considered too damaging so long as he remained at least emotionally tied to village."

The chief interrogator stepped closer and pointed to an older section in Kakashi's report. "However, we had recorded positive changes in his social behavior after acquiring a genin team. He grew closer to his students than he's typically allowed himself to do with anyone since Minato's death. He also began to interact and develop relationships with other jounin sensei for the purpose of evaluating progress, discussing teaching methods, and organizing joint training missions."

He pointed to the next section of the report. "However, upon Sasuke's betrayal and the temporary disbandment of Team 7 while the Naruto and Sakura train with others, he's reverted back to his previous behavior. I know we need him on higher level missions, but his sensei-ship was removed too abruptly. Psych agents are concerned that he'll retreat further than before, and the impact that could have on his sanity."

Tsunade thought back to her interesting conference with the sensei. "What if I were to tell you that Kakashi-san has been visiting Umino Iruka in his own home after every mission for the last three months?"

Ibiki's expression was skeptical. "Forgive me, but I find that difficult to believe, Hokage-sama. Although… perhaps after the trial fiasco…" he trailed off thoughtfully. With heightened intensity, he leaned forward and placed his hands on her desk. "Tell me what you know."

Tsunade related the conversation she had shared with Iruka moments earlier. Ibiki absorbed the information with interest.

"This does seem to be a positive development for Kakashi-san," The torture specialist commented. "But I disagree with your giving Iruka-san that medical book. The boy works two jobs; don't you think he's got enough to do?"

"I never_ asked_ him to do it," Tsunade pointed out. "He was rather adamant."

"You don't understand," The jounin sighed. "Umino can become…a bit obsessive about work. It's an old coping mechanism for him. I suspect he may even experience adrenaline highs from the rush and intensity of his schedule."

The Hokage snorted at this. "Iruka-san is a mature and stable adult. He can take care of himself." She smiled. "And if he gets his kicks off paperwork, well, that's his business. At least he's being productive."

Ibiki frowned at her dismissive attitude. Even a productive obsession could ultimately dull a shinobi's usefulness. It had almost broken Iruka once before.*

The Third Hokage would have understood his concerns. Sarutobi had taken special interest in Iruka, whose caring nature in turn helped support many others in the village. The elder had even been the one to assign Kakashi his genin team, knowing it was best not only for the children in question, but for the jounin as well.

Tsunade was no Sarutobi. However, with the Fifth's impressive knowledge in the realm of physical restoration, he could not very well fault her for ignorance in matters of keeping her ninja psychologically honed.

Ibiki, on the other hand, was more than equal to such a challenge. With that thought in mind, he dismissed himself from the office.

* * *

Kakashi entered the gates of Konoha late in the evening, nodding at the guards before taking to the rooftops. His feet automatically took him towards Iruka's apartment, where he had dropped by after almost every mission for the last few months. With as many missions as he carried out, that meant he visited often.

The stab wound on his arm had stopped bleeding several hours ago, and there was no injury that he couldn't handle himself with the medical kit in his own apartment. The food in his own refrigerator could not have gone bad yet, and though he was tired, Kakashi had energy enough to fix a meal if he really wanted it. He was a far better cook than Iruka, and his own meals were usually healthier. The chunin consumed too much sodium for his own good.

Despite this, there was nothing appealing about returning immediately to his own apartment. It was too quiet. Empty, in more ways than one. He'd never really noticed that about it before, until he had a point of comparison.

With the crayon and poster paint artwork attached to the refrigerator, photos of grinning children lining the shelves, a chipped "#1 Sensei" mug on the well-worn coffee table, and the couch draped with throw blankets hand-made by civilian mothers, Iruka's small home was just that- a _home_.

Peeking through the living room window, Kakashi caught a glimpse of Iruka napping on the couch. The coffee table beside him was hidden under scrolls and books. Judging from his half-sitting position, Iruka probably dozed off while grading papers.

With a grin, Kakashi rapped his knuckles obnoxiously on the glass pane.

When the sensei remained motionless, rather than startling awake, Kakashi grew concerned. He quickly reassessed the situation and, seeing nothing to indicate an intruder, knocked louder and more insistently. "Iruka-san!" he called.

The rise and fall of his chest assured him that Iruka was alive at least, but the chunin remained unresponsive. Kakashi examined the window in order to get to work on the seals keeping the entry secure.

Unfortunately, the sensei had updated his traps since the trial. It was good to know, at least, that Iruka never set up lethal traps, for fear of inadvertently killing some mischievous student.

Finally, after eight and a half minutes, Kakashi stepped inside, even more concerned since the chunin hadn't stirred once during the intrusion.

A hidden packet attached to the ceiling tile above the window burst open, and the jounin found himself partially coated in florescent yellow powder. Kakashi groaned inwardly.

Iruka may not want to kill a wayward student, but he wasn't against marking them to be identified and punished later. He was willing to bet his hitai-ate that this stuff didn't simply wash off.

But there were matters more pressing than worrying over a coating of bright yellow dye. Kakashi strode quickly to the couch. "Iruka-san," he called, lightly tapping the side of his face. He then pressed two fingers to his neck, feeling for the pulse.

As he did so, the chunin finally stirred. "Wha…?" He jolted upright and slapped his hand away. "What are you doing?"

"Checking your pulse." Kakashi replied, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "It seemed the thing to do, what with your being passed out and unresponsive."

"Passed out?" Iruka repeated slowly. He glanced at the books on the table and muttered something about "doing it wrong" before casting a critical eye at Kakashi. "And what happened to _you_?"

Kakashi scratched the back of his neck. "Ah, yellow's a good color for me, don't you think? I probably look younger as a blonde." He rubbed at the uncomfortable sensation in his scalp.

Iruka's eyes widened as he realized what must have happened. "I'm so sorry, Kakashi-san! I never meant for you…"

The jounin scratched his neck again, noticing that the discomfort kept increasing. "What _is_ this stuff?" His free hand swiped at his opposite arm, "Some kind of toxin?"

Iruka blushed. "Itching powder," he replied apologetically.

Kakashi stared at him incredulously. "Itching powder? What are you, twelve?"

"Would you rather it were poison?" the sensei shot back, "Because I can arrange that. Otherwise, just go take a shower. I'll get you a change of clothes."

Kakashi could feel the powder burning unpleasantly on his wounds, so he didn't bother arguing.

"The powder washes off, but the color's going to stay," Iruka added. "The yellow dye fades away on its own in about three days. Since it bonds only to skin and hair, at least your clothes will be fine after they've been laundered. Parents hate it when kids ruin their clothes, you know."

"Wonderful," Kakashi grumbled, fingers trembling as he fought the urge to scratch his skin. Or maybe gauge Iruka's eyes out. Keeping a henge up almost continually for three days was not going to be fun.

* * *

Kakashi sat on the livingroom floor winding bandages around his forearm while Iruka made an attempt to cook in his kitchen. The chunin's clothes fit him reasonably well, though the pants came just a little shorter than he liked. Kakashi retrieved another mask from his mission pack. Years of experience taught him to always carry a spare.

The itching was gone, but as expected the florescent yellow remained.

He finished replacing his bandages, and Iruka was still in the kitchen. Standing and stretching, Kakashi glanced over at the coffee table and took note of the material still spread out on the surface.

The sensei, upon reawaking, said he'd done it "wrong." Curious as to what that might mean, the jounin investigated.

Medical books?

A frown formed on the copy ninja's face.

"It's ready," Iruka announced as he walked in with a platter of grilled chicken on skewers. "Yakitori. I'll bring the rice balls in just a second."

Kakashi held the dish as the sensei began clearing off a spot on the low table.

"Why are you studying medical jutsu without an instructor?" Kakashi's manner of asking was flippant, but contained undertones of reprimand.

Iruka shrugged. "I wanted to build on the skills I already have. Tsunade-sama lent me some material when I asked her."

"She's _letting _you do this?" the jounin's frown deepened. "You could hurt yourself. Medical jutsu is delicate work. She, at least, should know better."

"It's fine, Kakashi-san. Nothing to worry about," Iruka insisted. "I'm taking it one step at a time. And an old classmate of mine, Houshou-san, is giving me pointers. He's a trained medical ninja."

The chunin disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a platter of rice balls. "Now quit worrying about me and eat. I'm sure you must be sick of ration bars."

He accepted the food, but the jounin wasn't willing to let this go just yet. A nagging suspicion rose in his mind. "The Godaime ordered you to do it." Kakashi guessed. "She found out that I come here, so she wants to make a medic out of you."

"Wrong." Iruka took a bite of his rice ball. "She's aware of our routine, but she didn't force me to do anything. I _asked_ her. I had to convince her, even, since she had the same reservations you just stated about the dangers."

"You don't have to cover for her."

"I'm not covering for anyone," Iruka snapped, his quick temper coming out. "I'd rather you didn't call me a liar."

"Uh…sorry?"

That response disarmed him, and the chunin dropped his gaze. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken offense." He set the food down and began gathering his medical materials. "I need to put these away and get ready to write out next week's exam questions. You go ahead and eat, Kakashi-san. If you need anything, let me know."

The jounin lowered his mask and ate unhurriedly, knowing by now that Iruka wouldn't look. Instead, Kakashi could use this opportunity to watch the chunin without him noticing.

Now that he didn't feel like scratching his skin off, Kakashi noticed some things were off. Iruka's skin was a shade paler than normal, and there were dark circles under his eyes. His shoulders were a bit slumped, and he overall looked to be in need of sleep.

The chunin set aside his medical books and retrieved school work, setting it on the table. Mission Desk files lay innocuously on a nearby bookshelf, but despite its innocent appearance, Kakashi inwardly shuddered at the amount of labor those compressed sheets of pulp fibers demanded.

The jounin shook his head as he came to the only possible conclusion. Iruka worked too hard.

And since it was _not_ standard procedure for shinobi to take Mission Desk work home with them, and he had chosen to take up medicine on the side despite Tsunade's reservations, the chunin himself was at fault for purposely over-scheduling his life. He _had_ to realize that there was too much for him to do.

Kakashi took note that Iruka had eaten only half a rice ball, while the rest of his meal was getting cold.

The sensei moved around, cleaning as he went: moving items back into place, dusting off shelves, wiping down counters. The itching powder from the floor had long been cleaned off and sterilized. Now Iruka was taking inventory of every item in his medical kit, something he did without fail every time he pulled it out, although the only things Kakashi had used today were fresh bandages and healing salve.

The jounin mentally revised his conclusion. Iruka was not just a hard worker, but a pathological one. What Kakashi was witnessing had to be some sort of obsessive compulsive behavior of which others weren't aware.

Although, if the jounin caught on after just a few months of irregular interaction, it didn't seem possible that no one else ever picked up on it. More likely, no one could be bothered to notice. Workaholism was a respectable addiction.

"Iruka-san, sit down and eat," Kakashi ordered.

"Nah, I'm not really hungry so I'm just going to..."

"No," Kakashi insisted, the command in his voice unmistakable. "Sit down. Eat." He was willing to pull rank here if necessary.

Iruka stared at him incredulously for a moment, then sat when it was clear that Kakashi was utterly serious.

"Sir, yes sir," he muttered sarcastically. "Shall I roll over next, or did you want me to play dead?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of fetch." Kakashi smirked.

Iruka glared, but the slight upwards tug at the corner of his mouth belied his anger. "Didn't anyone teach you that it's poor form to order a person around in his own home?"

"Since when does that stop me?" Kakashi shrugged. Then with a more sincere tone added, "Look. I just got back from a mission, your rushing around makes me jumpy."

It was interesting, the way Iruka instantly loosened up at those words. Apparently he could allow himself to relax so long as he believed he was _doing_ something for the other person.

The two fell into comfortable conversation. Or rather, Iruka shared amusing anecdotes from the classroom or village, and Kakashi listened and commented on occasion. It's not as though he could, or wanted to, talk about his own missions.

A tapping sound on the window interrupted them. Pecking at the glass was a large, glossy black raven. Iruka raised an eyebrow as he recognized the Torture and Interrogation Department's messenger bird. Opening the window, he offered his hand, and the bird promptly settled on the forearm. "Yes, Karasou-san?"

"Morino-san wants Hatake Kakashi to report to his office," the raven responded.

"Oh," Iruka raised his eyes to the jounin and shrugged to indicate that he didn't know the reason behind the summon. "Is he to go immediately?"

"As soon as his physical condition will allow, Morino-san said."

"All right, he'll be there soon," Iruka nodded, stroking the raven's head before allowing it to depart the way it came.

Kakashi crossed his arms irritably. Facing the torture specialist after just returning from a solo A-class mission was not his idea of good time. "What would that guy want with me anyway?"

"Aren't the jounin psychological evaluations taking place this year?" Iruka suggested. "Maybe it's your turn."

"They did my evaluation _months_ ago," he contradicted. "Besides, Ibiki-san isn't my psycho-analyst."

"Then maybe they found something on the evaluation they're concerned about," Iruka guessed.

The thought was disheartening, but it seemed to be the only explanation. The jounin sighed. "I don't know why they bother with these analysis things anyway. It didn't catch Itachi. Or Orochimaru. Or…"

"No system is perfect," Iruka cut in. "And besides, it's difficult to help someone once they're already an adult. Everyone knows it's the formative childhood years that have the greatest influence on a person psyche." The chunin's gaze became distant. Gathered up the dishes, he continued thoughtfully, "If I'd been more attentive to Sasuke-kun, for instance…maybe…"

"Don't," Kakashi interrupted, still uncomfortable whenever the youngest Uchiha was mentioned. Especially when he knew the person in the best position to have prevented his defection was Kakashi himself.

"Before you go see Ibiki-san," Iruka switched topics obligingly, "Let me get a sample of your chakra on this seal." He produced the mentioned parchment.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"I'm going to key the traps to your chakra," Iruka elaborated. "That way, they'll automatically disengage for you, in case you ever need to enter and I'm not around to let you in. I should have thought of it earlier. You know where I keep my supplies and you're welcome to make use of them, even if I'm not home."

Unable to find words to reply, Kakashi accommodated the request by sending a small pulse of his chakra into the seal.

Iruka went around readjusting his traps, as though he had no inclination whatsoever of the significance of this gesture. Sure, Kakashi had proven capable of disabling the traps twice already, but never without leaving some type of evidence that an entrance was made. Here, the chunin was giving him the key, an open invitation to come in, and the ability to do so without his ever being aware of it. Along with that came an unspoken and appalling amount of trust that the privilege wouldn't be abused.

Iruka was the one in need of a psychological evaluation, Kakashi decided. "Just how many people's chakra have you keyed to your home security?"

The chunin looked up from the stun-tag he was recalibrating. "Hm? Oh…two. Naruto-kun and now, you." He chuckled at the thunderstruck expression on the jounin's face. Misinterpreting the source of Kakashi's consternation, Iruka shrugged, "I know, I know. How can I let a prankster like _Naruto_ have free reign of my home?" Iruka went back to the tag, "But I can't help it. He's special to me, that kid."

In truth, fear of Naruto's pranks were far from the jounin's mind. Rather, he was dismayed to realize that Iruka had offered him the same level of trust he previously afforded only to his surrogate son.

There was simply no getting around it now.

Whether he liked it or not, he and Iruka were…in a friend-like association.

* * *

*The background to this statement can be found in the prequel Shattered. Read it if you're curious. ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

Kakashi glared at the large jounin from the doorway.

He had left for the T&I Department almost immediately- largely due to Iruka's insistence. The torture expert repaid the courtesy by making him wait outside the office for _two hours._ Not only was the Copy Nin mission-weary, the adrenaline from that scare with Iruka's unconsciousness had long worn off, leaving him doubly drained. Not to mention he'd been continually using a henge all this time. He had no desire to show off his new neon yellow coloring to Ibiki... or worse, the gossip-hungry Anko!

Never again, Kakashi miserably vowed, would he show up on time for Ibiki.

"I hear you've been lingering in Umino-san's apartment lately," Ibiki stated after Kakashi was seated in the wooden chair in his office. He didn't even bother to mention, let alone apologize for, the long wait.

Kakashi said nothing. After all, it hadn't been a question. Instead rested his chin on one hand and waited for the man to get to the point.

"Care to tell me why?" Ibiki continued.

"Not really."

With a stern look, the scarred jounin tried again, "Let me rephrase that. Tell me why have you been hanging around Umino-san's apartment."

"He invited me," came the vague reply.

"And you accepted," Ibiki finished, a calculating look in his eyes. "Interesting."

The Copy Ninja wasn't certain of Ibiki's intent. Was he unhappy about the association? Protective of his former student? Did he think Kakashi had ulterior motives?

Kakashi was in no mood for mind games and intrigue. "Why not get to the point and tell me why I'm here? What is it that you need to know?" All he really wanted was to get this over with and catch up on much needed sleep. Ibiki, the sadist, probably knew it too. Why else would he be summoned so shortly after a mission?

"You never mention Umino-san in your last evaluation," the scarred man answered. "So I have follow-up questions to ask. This time, Hatake-san, don't cover anything up."

"I had my evaluation before the visits began. I'm not hiding anything," Kakashi replied. "But now that you know I spend time with Umino-san, you should add bonus points to my psychologic integrity score. He's got to be a good influence."

"I suppose that's possible," Ibiki conceded. "That does depend. What do you do while you're with him?"

"Oh you know," Kakashi slouched lazily, "we devise plots on how to overthrow the government. We agreed that he gets to be the new Hokage, since I don't want to get stuck with all the paperwork."

"Really?" Ibiki, unfazed, actually wrote something down on his clipboard. "Then what would you get out of it?"

"I get to be the head of Torture and Interrogation, and ask people stupid questions for a living," Kakashi responded without missing a beat.

Ibiki didn't visibly react, only continued jotting notes. "Hm. And now that you've fed me your inane story, shall we get to answering the question? What do you do at Iruka-san's home?"

Remembering his miserable two hour wait, Kakashi considered fabricating another story just to provoke the man's ire…how would the stoic Ibiki react if his next answer had an Icha Icha flavor to it?

But what he really wanted to do was go home, and angering this man would only prolong the encounter. Besides, if Tsunade already knows of their routine, then the interrogator did as well. The question was a formality at best.

"Iruka-san is a halfway decent medic. I let him patch me up after missions," the jounin admitted. "His food is edible too, though a little salty. Between his diet and the brats he teaches, I wouldn't be surprised if his blood pressure's ridiculously high."

"What about conversations?" Ibiki continued. "You know, when you two aren't planning treason?"

Kakashi frowned at the interrogator. If he wanted to do a re-evaluation, why didn't he get Kakashi's usual psychoanalyst to do it? The Copy Nin had gotten used to his guy after all these years. He wasn't open to sharing with Ibiki- especially since he doubted that this was really an evaluation.

"We have conversations," he hedged.

"And?" Ibiki prompted, when it was clear the copy ninja wasn't going to elaborate.

"They're okay."

"Why are they _okay_, Kakashi?" The way his name was said, and the lack of honorific, was clear warning.

Kakashi sighed. Ibiki was one of the few people in the village that he couldn't afford to antagonize _too _badly, so he attempted to dredge up a halfway acceptable answer. Let's see…why were his and Iruka's conversations "okay?" What sort of answer would make a psychoanalyst happy?

"I suppose it's because he doesn't ask stupid questions, like 'why do you wear that mask?' When I come back from a crappy mission, he doesn't say irritating things like 'I know how you feel.'"

Ibiki was apparently satisfied with the attempt at a meaningful answer, for he didn't press further on conversations. "And you're comfortable around Iruka-san?"

Seeing Kakashi's quizzical expression, he reworded the question. "You don't feel threatened by him?"

"Why should I? He's a chunin," Kakashi responded, clearly still puzzled by the inquiry.

Ibiki shook his head. "That's not what I meant. You don't feel like he threatens your privacy?"

"Nowhere near as much as you do, Morino-san."

Even as he answered, Kakashi realized that, no, Iruka had not threatened his privacy at all. At first, the jounin suspected this "friendship" scheme was actually a plot to see his face uncovered. He'd been the subject of these plots for years… not just with his genin, but with fellow jounin and even some ANBU. Greater men than Iruka had tried to unmask him. With this in mind, Kakashi had purposely set the sensei up with false "opportunities" to see his face, just for laughs. He was left puzzled when Iruka didn't take the bait. It's not that the chunin wasn't curious, Kakashi could the speculation in his eyes sometimes, but Iruka never tried to follow through on that curiosity.

It was a respect few people had granted him in his life.

The interrogator jotted down another note, then asked his next question. "Do you notice anything odd about Iruka-san's behavior?"

Kakashi tilted his head as he considered the question. How was this relevant to his re-evaluation? Once again he wondered, why would _Ibiki be _evaluating Kakashi in the first place? The head of T&I had far more connection to Iruka than himself. Could this be an investigation into the chunin, under the guise of a jounin psych evaluation? It seemed just the sort of thing the manipulative interrogator would do.

"Odd?" The jounin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "He teaches hellions. Voluntarily. You have to admit that's odd."

Ibiki jotted down another note. "Try again."

"Hm. He drinks a lot of tea. Almost always has a mug of it within reach."

"What kind of tea?" Ibiki probed.

Was that information actually helpful, Kakashi wondered. "He switches it up, now and then."

"Something with caffeine or some other stimulant? Or an herbal relaxer?"

"He has both," Kakashi responded vaguely.

"But which does he usually drink?"

Why was he pressing the question? "Coca leaf. A stimulant."

Ibiki grunted. "Notice anything else odd?"

Kakashi rolled his eyes. "Let's see…" He held out a gloved hand and began counting off on his fingers, "Iruka snores, sings in the shower, can burp the Konoha national anthem, wears dolphin print pajamas to bed, and moonlights as a nightclub bouncer on the weekends."

Of the list he rattled off, only the second one was true.

Ibiki said nothing, only scribbled down more notes before leveling an even stare at Kakashi.

It hadn't escaped the copy ninja's notice that the interrogator _only_ took notes when Kakashi made a snide or sarcastic remark. He wondered what that meant for him.

"All right, Ibiki-san." Kakashi sighed. "You're not testing my observational skills for the fun of it. Why is Umino-san under suspicion?"

"Under suspicion?" Ibiki grinned in amusement. "What makes you say that?"

"Stop playing games. Just tell me what you're looking for. 'Odd' is a very broad term," Kakashi said coolly. "If you're looking for signs of treason, I'll tell you right now that I see none."

The interrogator said nothing for a few moments, weighing what his next words should be. "Not treason. I'm looking for signs of compulsion."

So Ibiki did know. "He seems overworked," Kakashi offered.

The interrogator chuckled humorlessly. "The fact that you know exactly what type of compulsion I'm talking about, without my having to tell you, reveals a lot. Either he's worse off than I thought, or you're extraordinarily perceptive."

"Well, I am a genius," Kakashi shrugged.

The interrogator grunted. "Is he endangering his health?"

Kakashi thought back to his latest visit before responding. "He might not be eating well. He looks tired. Still, he seems to be doing well enough. Shinobi can function on limited food and sleep, as you well know."

"Hm." Ibiki laced his fingers together, and leaned forward. He said nothing as he stared at Kakashi. The copy nin waited, maintaining his own stare of perpetual bored that was now tinged with fatigue.

"Drop the henge, Kakashi-san."

"Excuse me?"

"Altering your appearance within the T&I Department is illegal, unless on official business. Drop it."

Kakashi smirked. "Yes, I'm sure you tell that to Tsunade-sama when _she_ comes to visit," Still he undid the jutsu, raising an eyebrow at Ibiki that dared him to laugh.

Ibiki's eyes traveled over Kakashi's effervescent yellow hair and skin. "If Umino-san invited you over, why did you need to break in?"

Kakashi smiled at the other jounin's swift deduction and no-nonsense response. "Umino-san started training with medical jutsu on his own. With Tsunade-sama's approval, he says. But you know how unsupervised self-training can be. He was passed out when I arrived, but regained consciousness quickly and was fine."

The interrogator shook his head, displeased. "I warned Tsunade-sama to be wary of allowing him to increase his workload. It's how he responds with stress."

"By creating more stress?" Kakashi noted wryly. "Brilliant."

"It's more common than you may think, Kakashi-san. Keep busy enough and you don't have to feel." Ibiki drummed his fingers on the desk. "He's kept that behavior under control since his break down years ago, but it appears to me that he has been relapsing since the Sand trial."

"What do you plan to do about it?" The copy ninja asked, troubled to realize that the sensei had ever had a "break down" before. It must have been in the files Pakkun had read for him and, having no positive bearing on the legal case, was not brought to his attention.

"What I've been doing. Watching. Checking with his associates," Ibiki replied curtly. "Umino's already aware of his obsessive nature, and if he can't control it, I'm not going to wait for the next break down before I step in."

"Step in, as in…?" The silver haired jounin prompted.

"Send him to a rehabilitation center. What else could I do?"

Kakashi nodded slowly. That course of action made sense. Prevention was much more effective than just reacting to a crisis. Although, the thought of Iruka locked away in a rehab center for an indefinite amount of time bothered him. He was so deep in thought that he missed Ibiki's next sentence and had to ask him to repeat it.

"I said that your report was helpful. That's all for now, Kakashi-san. Thank you for your time." Ibiki stood to walk him to the door. "Go catch up on your sleep."

The interrogation specialist watched the jounin as he quietly move out, then closed the door behind him.

Ibiki stood in silence for a moment before retrieving his clipboard and reading over the list he had worked on whenever Kakashi started spouted nonsense:

_Milk, butter, eggs, tomatoes, salt, bread, rice, fish, tea._

Adding mushrooms to the list, he folded the paper up and placed it in his vest pocket with a satisfied smile. This meeting had been a clear success.

Morino Ibiki loved killing two birds with one shuriken.

Iruka clearly already considered Kakashi a friend, cared for him greatly, and yet was empathetic enough not to drive Kakashi away. Thus, Ibiki had little to _do _but step back and allow the younger ninja to work on Kakashi's withdrawn personality and social issues. Iruka was useful in keeping other shinobi grounded, and Ibiki was not above assigning him to a troubled citizen. However, friendship was much more effective when one wasn't _ordered_ to develop one.

Ibiki also didn't fail to notice Kakashi's concern and empathy for the chunin. Now that he was aware of the problem, perhaps the copy nin could influence Iruka with his laid-back attitude, and keep the sensei's obsessive work habits in check. Ibiki didn't request Kakashi's help in this, because it was clear he would do it of his own free will. Kakashi would be as genuinely invested in their camaraderie as Iruka, each man looking to the good of the other.

Rarely did Ibiki find such an ideal solution that required so little outside manipulation on his part. Like iron sharpening iron, those two could keep each other fit for Konoha's service, much like Izumo and Kotetsu.

Ibiki secretly prided himself in the fact that he'd spotted the benefits of Kotetsu and Izumo's friendship from the outset and had encouraged the Sandaime to assign them together as often as possible: gate guarding, mission desk shifts, and prison duty. It would be trickier with Kakashi and Iruka. Considering the obvious lopsidedness in their skill-level, they couldn't be assigned together on a professional basis. Still, Ibiki felt he'd given it the best start and, despite his nature, he felt oddly optimistic.

The fact that he had found time to work on a shopping list during Kakashi's ridiculous storytelling, and could leave the office early enough to get to the market, was the bonus "third bird" hit by Ibiki's psychological shuriken.

He did, after all, value efficiency.

* * *

Aoba sighed at the paperwork on his desk that _still _needed to be processed. He glanced up at the wall, wondering if the clock might have stopped. But no, he could hear the steady tick of seconds being slowly eaten away.

He _despised _being forced to sub at the Mission Room. He was a tokubetsu jounin for goodness sake! Wasn't there some unwritten rule that this sort of work was beneath them?

The fidgety shinobi spared a glance at the other ninja manning the desk on this shift. Umino Iruka. The scarred chunin was engrossed in his own paperwork, working like a machine, and had barely spoken to Aoba the whole shift.

"Hey, Iruka-san," Aoba called over, utterly bored and looking for a diversion.

Iruka looked up in such a way that suggested the sensei had forgotten anyone else was there with him. "Yes?"

"It's been slow today, ne?"

"Usually is at this time of day. That's why we're supposed to get all this work done by the end of our shift. We've got the time for it." Iruka was speaking to him, but his face was pointed at his own work again.

Aoba rubbed the back of neck. He'd overheard stories from the other Mission Room chunin about this guy. He wondered…

"Say…Iruka-san," Aoba felt a bit guilty for the lie he was about to tell, but this shift was going to kill him. "I'm really not feeling well. Would you mind terribly if I just left early? I mean, only if you think you can handle things alone for the next two hours."

"Of course," Iruka replied with concern, finally setting his pen down. "Did you get to finish with your work?"

The other ninja sighed, "Well, not completely, no. But I've got this awful headache, and I can't seem to concentrate. It's been getting worse all shift. Happens a lot: I get these terrible headaches, and if I don't pace myself they build up and become excruciating migraines."

The sensei nodded in understanding. "Hey, don't worry about it, then. I'll take care of the rest."

"Thanks!" The other ninja shot up out his chair and began stacking documents onto his coworker's desk. "_These_ need to be read over and approved. _These_ over here need to be categorized and filed. And you'll need to take the highlighted information from _those_ and enter it into the cross-reference base. Oh, ah, and _these _need to be read and approved, and then highlighted for cross-referencing, before entering the marked data into the base, and _then_ being categorized and filed. Got it?"

"Uh…yeah…" Iruka stared at the piles incredulously. "Haven't you done _anything_ in the last three hours?"

"Ah…" Aoba winced. "Headache, you know."

"Well," the sensei sighed tiredly, "Go get some rest them. I'll try my best to get this finished."

The tokubetsu jounin kept the triumphant grin from his face. So it _was_ true. Iruka wouldn't deny a request to take over another person's shift if he could help it.

An uncomfortable twinge in his conscience made him reconsider. That pesky inner voice told him that there was no way the chunin could finish five hour's worth of another man's work in just the next two. "Are you _sure_, Iruka-san?" he asked reluctantly.

The sensei smiled. "Don't worry. It won't hurt me if I stay a bit later. And I'll bring home whatever I don't finish. Just take care of yourself, ne? Migraines are a terrible ordeal."

Aoba nodded. If Iruka said don't worry about it…well, he just wasn't going to worry about it. He strolled out of the mission room and into the freedom of the outside world. Maybe if he caught up with his girlfriend, they could go out to eat. There was new barbeque place he wanted to try, and…

"Going somewhere?"

The tokubetsu jonin was startled from his planning by the sudden appearance of another ninja. "Oh…Hatake-san!"

The copy ninja considered the other with a half-lidded eye. Something about that seemingly lazy glare still caused chills to run down Aoba's spine. "Shouldn't you be manning the mission desk?"

"Oh, I was," he replied. "But my shift was almost up, and Iruka-san's got it covered so…I…" he hesitated as the elite jounin's glare grew colder.

Kakashi brought his masked face closer to the other's. "You and I need to have a little…_talk_."

* * *

Iruka glanced up as a ninja entered the mission room. Eyebrows raised in surprise when he identified the newcomer. "Aoba-san? What are _you_ doing here? I thought you were going home."

The tokubetsu jounin shifted his eyes nervously around him and his face was paler than when he'd left. When he spoke, the words shook slightly "Ah, Iruka-san…I ch-changed my mind. I'm feeling a _lot_ better."

"Are you sure?" the chunin frowned. "You don't look better. In fact, you look quite a bit worse."

"No, I'm sure!" Aoba insisted almost shrilly, scooping his work back from Iruka's desk and clutching it to his chest. "Here, let me take that back!"

"But…"

"No, I insist. What kind of shinobi would let a little headache keep him from serving his village, right?"

His accompanying chuckle sounded a little crazed, so Iruka let it go at that.

Crazy jounin.


	4. Chapter 4

"So how did your session with Ibiki-san go?"

Iruka was trying to make small talk, Kakashi knew, to keep the jounin's mind off the kunai currently embedded in his shoulder. Still, he could have definitely chosen a more pleasant subject for the occasion.

Kakashi forced himself not to wince as the sensei extracted the blade. "He redid a portion of my evaluation. Said it was necessary since I've started spending time at your place."

"Really?"

Iruka wondered at that while he staunched the flow of blood triggered by the removal of the kunai. Making a new association normally wouldn't warrant a reevaluation.

Frowning thoughtfully, he remembering something Kakashi had told him while visiting his prison cell:_ "Anyone who I'd consider a friend is already dead." _That was probably the key to understanding Ibiki's motives. If Iruka knew his old mentor, he was willing to bet that some of Ibiki's "questions" were designed to help Kakashi accept that he could move on and make friends with the living.

The chunin considered how to tactfully approach the subject. "Ibiki-san must have been pleased that you're branching out a bit more," he suggested. "That's probably why he called you in the first place."

Kakashi, however, had a different theory. After he'd slept, he went over the conversation with Ibiki again in his mind. Amazing the difference a little bit sleep can make on your perceptions. Looking back, the Copy Nin didn't doubt that Ibiki was asking, without asking, for his aid in curbing Iruka's obsessive work habits before they undid him.

"Actually, Iruka-sensei, I'm fairly sure Ibiki-san was recruiting me to keep you from spiraling into insanity." There were more tactful ways to say it, but Kakashi never was one for sugarcoating.

"I should hope," Iruka scoffed, "that I'm not so far gone as to need a crazy jounin to preserve my sanity!" He paused to consider where to place the inner stitches. But once Iruka started weaving the thin metal needle through flesh, he continued speaking, hoping to take the man's mind off the injury. He had yet to learn how to dull pain with chakra, and Kakashi was surprisingly resistant to general anesthetics.

"You're lucky you caught me home, Kakashi-san. I had agreed to cover Izumo's shift tonight, but for some reason he changed his mind."

The jounin's smirk stayed hidden behind his mask. He and the other desk workers had …_talked_…before Kakashi left for his mission. It would seem that they'd heeded his warnings.

"Everyone's been acting so strangely lately," Iruka reflected, though still focused on his task.

"Oh?" the jounin prompted, curious to see what his influence had inspired.

"Well, they give me these frozen smiles when I ask if there's anything I can help them with," Iruka began. "I practically get shoved out the door the moment my shift is done. And just the other day, Iwashi literally _snatched_ a folder of documents out of hands, yelling that I'm not allowed to take Mission Desk work home with me." Iruka seemed particularly bewildered at that.

"I know it's not standard procedure, but it's not _forbidden._ No one's ever protested before." The sensei shook his head. "It's like…they don't trust me to do my job."

Kakashi snorted derisively, "You do your job, sensei. The others probably just feel guilty about dumping all their work on you."

"Maybe you're right," Iruka sighed as he tied the last stitch. "I'm just reading too much into it."

"So what are you doing with this extra time now?" Kakashi asked. "Reading? Relaxing with friends? Watching movies? I heard a rumor that they're making a movie version of Icha Icha."

The sensei's eyes widened in dismay. "Oh, Kami, no! If that's happens, I'll have to volunteer to child-proof the theater."

"Now _there's_ a creative excuse," the jounin snickered.

"It's _not_…" Iruka reddened. "I wouldn't want to watch that movie! And anyway, it's not like I have time for that."

"But you just said you're spending less time with Mission Desk work," Kakashi pointed out.

"Yes, but I'm using that extra time to conduct additional tutoring sessions," Iruka explained. "And I'll be able to complete my Field Medicine course earlier than expected. Also, I've been helping one of the newer Academy teachers come up with general course notes for the reminder of the year."

While the chunin continued on about the productive things he'd been able to accomplish with his newfound free time, Kakashi momentarily slumped in defeat. What was _with_ this guy? It became clear that, despite having grossly opportunistic coworkers, Iruka's main enemy when it came to his schedule was himself.

Misreading the defeat as exhaustion, Iruka gave him a worried look. "Why don't you lie down and relax, while I get some tea started?" He wiped the blood from his hands in the basin of water on the coffee table and moved to stand.

"Mah, let me do it," Kakashi insisted, jumping up so quickly Iruka startled back in his seat. "You just…sit…right there. Don't do anything."

Iruka raised an eyebrow at the jounin.

Kakashi flashed his crescent-eyed smile. "You're always trying to be the good host, doing all the work. Let me help once in a while, ne?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Iruka chuckled, moving to get up from his seat. "You just got back from a mission, and you're _injured_. I don't expect you to…"

"Sit down!" Kakashi barked, pushing the chunin back down with his uninjured arm. He then glanced around the room before eyeing a bookshelf and retrieving the first volume in a series of classic fantasy novels. "Read," he demanded, shoving the book into the startled sensei's chest. That man was going to take a break whether he wanted to or not.

"You've the social skills of a rabid wolf!" Iruka snapped. "When you're trying to do something nice for someone you don't order them around like an unruly subordinate."

Kakashi paused, considering his words. If he didn't order him around, then how was he supposed to get him to listen? "Okay…_Please_ sit there and read while I make the tea?" he tried finally.

The annoyance in Iruka's expression slowly faded, amusement taking its place. "All right, then," he conceded hesitantly. "Just be _careful_ not to strain that shoulder, and you can make the tea this time."

"And dinner," Kakashi added. He had not failed to notice that Iruka had lost weight again since he'd seen him last.

"If you must," Iruka stated with obvious reluctance. "_Please_ go easy on that arm. I'm here if you need help." The chunin sighed before glancing down at the aged novel in his hands. "At least you forced one of my favorite books on me. I haven't read this in years."

"I've read some of it before," Kakashi shrugged with his good shoulder. "Not as good as the Icha Icha series, but it's passable."

"_What!_ This is a finely crafted work of classical literature about honor, betrayal, and the search for truth! Don't compare it to that smut." Iruka's irritated scowl quickly faded and a wistful smile took its place. "It's a shame that this series has been out of print for ages. I never got my hands on the last book, so I'll never read the end."

As Iruka settled in and opened the cracked leather binding, Kakashi hunted around the chunin's kitchen, searching for the right ingredients and utensils. The jounin set a pot of water to boil before opening the refrigerator and surveying its contents.

A smile formed when he saw everything he needed for miso soup. And there, jammed underneath a head of lettuce, was a large squishy eggplant that probably had at least a couple of days left before it became inedible.

Miso soup with eggplant, now _that_ was what Kakashi called dinner! As he pulled the food from the refrigerator, the jounin's shoulder protested the motion. However, he gritted his teeth and ignored it.

Partway through his preparations, he peeked in on Iruka. The sensei's eyes flicked back and forth over the page as he avidly absorbed its contents.

Witnessing his enthrallment with the narrative, Kakashi wondered whether he ought to give Iruka the last book of that series- which the jounin happened to have in his own personal library. It would practically guarantee that Iruka spent some time relaxing. Besides, Kakashi had long ago memorized every volume. It had been an intense read, notwithstanding his claims to the contrary. Raising Iruka's ire was entertaining, and the sensei took books very seriously.

Unfortunately, Iruka was not so spellbound as to be unaware of someone watching him. "Kakashi-san? Is your arm bothering you? Do you want to take a break?"

"No. Not at all. I'm fine." But, alas, his protests failed to keep the chunin in his seat. He was up in an instant, and checking on the soup Kakashi had started.

Tasting it, Iruka tilted his head in consideration. "Needs salt, don't you think?" His hand reached for the salt dispenser.

Kakashi snatched the chunin's wrist before he could add said seasoning. "No, I don't think so." Iruka's ramen-eating habits must have deadened his tastebuds to salt.

After several more failed protests, Kakashi resigned himself to having Iruka help. It wasn't as though cooking was all that stressful anyway. In fact, through the course of their team cooking- hunting for spices and condiments other than salt, arguing over what does or does not belong in a certain recipe, and swapping stories of past cooking disasters; they actually managed to have fun.

Later, at the dinner table, Iruka marveled at the great flavor of their soup and admitted that maybe Kakashi knew what he was doing after all. The jounin couldn't remember the last time he had cooked for someone else, and it felt strangely pleasant to be complimented.

"You were also right about the rice," Iruka sighed, prodding the grains with his chopstick. "I overcooked it. I guess I'll just have to admit defeat. You're definitely the better chef."

"It's probably because I travel more," Kakashi pointed out, spooning some of the overcooked rice into his dish. "I get to observe many different ways to prepare meals, and learn new methods to try."

"Well, maybe you could teach me more cooking secrets the next time you drop in," Iruka suggested, lifting the soup bowl to his mouth and draining half of it.

_Next time._

Something about the casual manner in which the chunin said that really bothered him. Kakashi frowned, trying to let it go. But those two words continued to pester him, like a mosquito that wouldn't stop droning in his ear.

"You know, Iruka-san… one of these days, I _won't_ come back."

The sensei chuckled, unable to see the gravity in Kakashi's face since he pointedly kept his eyes elsewhere during their meals. "Come now- surely my cooking skills aren't _that_ terrible!"

"I'm being serious," Kakashi pushed his plate away and pulled up his mask, no longer in the mood to eat. "There won't always _be_ a next time. It could be that _next time_ the kunai will pierce my heart rather than my shoulder. You know the kind of missions I go on; you can't take for granted that I'm coming back. Or that anyone else will. You're setting yourself up for a fall, getting as...as attached as you do. It won't last!" The last sentence was said challengingly, daring the chunin to disagree. Didn't Iruka realize that? Why did he continue to commit himself wholeheartedly to other people, to friendships? What was the _point_?

"If it won't last," Iruka replied softly, undaunted by Kakashi's sudden cynicism. "Then that's all the more reason to treasure our friends while they're here, ne? After all, Kakashi-san, when a person dies, the only part of himself that remains alive is that which he's given to others."

The jounin stared, taking a moment to absorb that convoluted logic. It was almost comical how two people, when presented with the same facts, could still arrive at such contradictory conclusions. "Now I understand why Ibiki-san called you a 'hopeless optimist.'"

"One of my greatest faults, I'm sure."


	5. Chapter 5

When Kakashi next swung in through Iruka's window, his first thought was that he'd entered the wrong apartment. Or perhaps a twisted alternate dimension.

There were children _everywhere_: lounging on the sofa, scurrying down the hall, clamoring in the kitchen…there was even one scruff laughing delightedly while hanging upside down from the ceiling fan.

But then he spotted an angry Iruka, demanding that the boy get down this instant before he hurt himself. And there was a more composed Iruka, holding a sheet of parchment and calmly discussing something with the children on the sofa. Keeping the others in some semblance of order and performing crowd control was yet another, slightly more harried-looking Iruka.

It was this alert clone that first noticed the newcomer. "Kakashi-san! You're hurt." He moved forward to take a closer look at the damage.

"Barely," The jounin flashed him a tired smile. "You're obviously busy now. I'll just be going and…"

"Don't be ridiculous!" The clone protested, crinkling his nose at the thought of turning his friend away without some form of care. Just then, the original Iruka emerged from the laundry room. He handed off a pile of worn-out but freshly laundered clothes to one of the kids and grasped Kakashi's elbow. "Come on."

He steered the mission-weary jounin away, navigating around dozens of bags and packages cluttering the floor. They made their way to the small guest room, which thankfully turned out to be brat-free. Iruka shut the door behind them, maintaining some privacy.

"All right, Kakashi-san, shirt off; let's see what you've done to yourself _this_ time," Iruka quipped.

The jounin complied, and while Iruka assessed Kakashi's condition, the high-pitched voices of the children filtered in through the thin walls.

"Iruka-sensei!" they clamored, "Who _was_ that guy?"

"What's his name?"

"Why's he _bleeding_?"

"How come he's wearing a mask?"

"Wasn't that your lawyer?"

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"How does he get his hair to stick up all cool like that?"

Iruka's voice filtered through the wall next, as one of the clones, presumably the target of the inquisition, endeavored to respond to at least some of their questions. "Please, calm down! There's nothing to worry about. That was Hatake Kakashi, an elite jounin and one of Konoha's finest shinobi." The respect in the clone's tone was unfeigned as he continued. "Hatake-san is injured because he just returned from a dangerous mission. He works hard and risks his life to protect our village, so let's show him our appreciation by being quiet and letting him rest."

Kakashi couldn't help but grin at the overheard explanation.

Before him, Iruka's face was red and he scratched his scar awkwardly. "I never noticed how well sound carries through these walls," he muttered mostly to himself.

"So... when you say '_finest,'_" Kakashi stated mischievously, "Are you talking about my skill or my looks? Because you didn't really specify."

"How could I be talking about your looks?" Iruka scoffed, "I've never even seen your face."

"I must be good-looking," the shirtless jounin countered, "Every time I come over, you can't keep your hands off me."

The sensei, who'd been pressing his fingertips along the jounin's chest looking for broken ribs, paused in his task to reprovingly twist Kakashi's ear. "It's called a _medical examination_, you narcissist."

The jounin winced and rubbed his abused ear. "Is that any way to show your appreciation for my heroic efforts to protect our village?"

Iruka rolled his eyes but was spared from responding when a _crash_ in the kitchen interrupted their conversation, followed by a faint "_oops...sorry!"_

"Looks like you could use someone to protect your home from destructive brats," Kakashi observed.

"That was just Miko." Iruka smiled patiently. "He doesn't mean to be destructive; he's just accident-prone."

"So…any particular _reason_ for the hellion infestation?" Kakashi asked.

"Those kids are _not _hel…" another resounding _crash _interrupted his sentence, and Iruka dropped his intended protest with a sigh. "It's the first of the month. That's when the civilian and pre-genin children receive their stipends from the Konoha's Orphan Fund," the chunin explained. "I help them do some of their shopping- hence, the packages all over the house. I try to teach them to budget and spend money wisely. After that, we come back here for lessons. I divide them into smaller groups and use clones to teach different skills. They're learning how to cook, do their laundry, clean, maintain proper hygiene- things of that nature."

"So basically, you're their mom for the day."

The chunin balked, "I'm not anyone's _mom_! I just care enough to teach them the skills they need to know! They've got a rough path ahead of them, full of sacrifices and without a family for support, so…"

"Relax, sensei," Kakashi raised both hands in a placating gesture. "I wasn't trying to insult you." His eye crinkled as he smiled, "To be honest, I barely remember my own mother. Those skills you're talking about, I learned mainly from Minato-sensei. The village needs its mother hens."

Iruka frowned at the chosen title. However, if Kakashi was going to share something that personal about his own life, then Iruka could overlook being called a mother hen.

"Anyway, at the end of our day," Iruka resumed his explanation, "We all sit down to enjoy dinner. I provide the food, but the kids do all the cooking for practice. You're welcome to join us."

"No thanks," Kakashi replied quickly, "I'll spare my tastebuds from that particular experience."

"You've probably been living off of cardboard-flavored rations for the last few weeks. I promise dinner will turn out at least better than _that._"

Kakashi, who had indeed endured weeks of flavorless rations, paused to consider the offer. Real food sounded good, but putting up with rowdy mini-humans did not. "Sorry, but I don't think I could deal with all that right now. My energy's a bit low…"

"Right, of course," Iruka quickly responded, "You just relax. Feel free to use the shower or take a nap. I'll make sure the kids don't get too noisy."

Kakashi nodded appreciatively. Iruka moved to the door and opened it, ready to rejoin his kids, when he paused. "When dinner's ready, I'll bring you a plate in case you feel up to eating." With that, he stepped out and closed the door.

The jounin knew he should jump in the shower, but the guest bed was far too comfortable, and his limbs felt far too heavy to undertake the endeavor just yet. He lay on his back allowing his mind and body to unwind after what had been a particularly stressful mission.

The indistinct chatter of quiet conversation and movement outside was strangely comforting. Despite his outward disdain for young children, so much of what Kakashi did…the wars he'd fought in, the dangers he faced…was carried out to protect the future of little ones like them. It was easy to forget, sometimes- to feel purposeless and empty. At their age, Kakashi was already a seasoned warrior. The fact that these children, orphans though they were, could be in a kitchen working with cooking knives rather than in a battlefield wielding kunai; well- it seemed to validate his existence, prove that his work was meaningful.

As Kakashi listened to the subdued sounds, one child's voice filtered through the thin wall, distinct from the others because of her proximity. "I wonder why he came over to Iruka-sensei's house. Don't jounin usually go to the hospital when they're hurt? Why would he come _here_?"

"Who knows?" The other girl's soft, simple answer was just barely audible. "Maybe Hatake-san's an orphan too..."

* * *

Kakashi didn't notice when he fell asleep. One minute he was listening to the children raiding Iruka's kitchen, the next a knock on the door drew him out of a particularly deep slumber. Stretching leisurely, he sat up before calling the person in.

Iruka pushed the door open with one hand, the other carrying a tray of food. "Do you think you're up for some dinner?" he asked. "The kids actually made the effort to save some for you."

Kakashi eyed the tray suspiciously. "Have you eaten it yet?"

"Sure," Iruka confirmed. "We've all finished. The kids are cleaning up and washing the dishes and I thought you might…"

_CRASH!_

"_Oops._"

Iruka's eyes widened at the sound of porcelain breaking in the kitchen. "Excuse me for a moment." His reserved, controlled tone was belied by the hasty manner in which he shoved the tray onto Kakashi's lap, nearly spilling its contents, and darted out of the room.

The jounin chuckled in amusement. And Iruka thought they weren't hellions!

His eyes returned to the tray. It looked innocuous enough: a bowl of rice, a piece of overcooked fish, and a bowl of… what? Lifting the steaming bowl off the tray, he sniffed at its contents. "Miso soup, with eggplant," Kakashi smiled. "Iruka passed the lesson along."

The famished jounin made quick work of the meal, and begrudgingly admitted that the kids had done all right. Then again, compared to cardboard rations, almost anything could be considered gourmet.

Refreshed from his sleep and energized by the food, Kakashi gathered his tray and stood. Even his wounds barely bothered him. Iruka really was coming along with the medical jutsu. The laceration that he'd been sure would require stitches were closed instead with healing chakra.

He brought his dishes to the kitchen, and instantly every child in the room stopped to stare at him. Kakashi offered up a crescent-eyed smile, covering up his discomfort at being under their scrutiny. When he'd walked in earlier, it had seemed like there were scores of the little beings in the house. Now that they were actually still, he saw that there were only fourteen of them, ranging from about five to ten years old.

"Hi," he said finally.

That was enough to open the flood gates.

"Are you feeling better, jounin-san?"

"Did you like the food we made, huh, did you?"

"Can you tell us about your mission?"

"Show us your super-cool jutsu! Pleeease?"

"_I _cooked the fish. It was good, right?"

"_Hey! _I helped too!"

Iruka chuckled and came to the jounin's aid. "Why don't you let Hatake-san put away his dishes before bombarding him with questions?"

"Oh! I'll take those!" A blue-haired boy dashed up and helpfully grabbed the tray from the shinobi's hands. He bolted toward the sink, promptly tripped over his own feet and fell, taking the dishes down with him. They landed with yet another _crash._

"Oops," the child grimaced sheepishly. "Sorry, sensei."

Iruka sighed and helped the boy into a chair. "It's all right, Miko-kun,"

The sensei tended to the boy's bloody knee, while the others cleared both the broken and intact dishes. Kakashi hung back at the doorway, uncomfortable around so many people. He'd just made up his mind to slip away while no one was paying attention, when a parting glance at Iruka made him stop.

Something was off about the chunin. Face tensed in concentration, he seemed to be struggling to perform a simple healing jutsu despite having already used a much more complicated one on Kakashi earlier.

In fact, every line of Iruka's posture hinted at weariness. He had likely spent most of his day with maniac pre-genin in the academy, before taking charge of this group of energetic brats. The clones he'd been using almost continuously to supervise them would have eaten up a good amount of chakra, even without expending the amount of energy he had on healing Kakashi. Considering the younger man's limited chakra reserves, it was no wonder he was wearing out.

Kakashi sighed and walked over to his workaholic comarade.

Iruka startled when Kakashi's hand caught his wrist. He'd been so focused on his task that he didn't notice the other's approach.

The jounin tilted his chin toward Miko's injury, "It's just a small scrape, Iruka-sensei. It's not worth wasting your chakra to heal it."

Iruka's brow furrowed, positively incensed. How dare he imply that healing Miko was a waste! "I assure you, Hatake-san, that I think my kids are _worth_ whatever energy I expend."

"I wasn't suggesting otherwise," Kakashi replied calmly. "But considering his knee's only scraped, he'd probably benefit more from a lesson in bandaging."

"Oh…" Iruka rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, it _would _be good to practice some first aid. Not all of them know how it's done."

"Why don't you let me teach them?" Kakashi suggested, surprising even himself by the offer.

The children's eyes lit up at the prospect of being taught by a jounin. Iruka wondered when Kakashi suddenly gained an interest in teaching. But then, he _had_ been a teacher to Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke, before all three of them commenced training under Sanin. "Sure, Kakashi-san. I'll get the bandages, and they're all yours."

The jounin looked less than thrilled at the prospect. "Mine…right…"

His uncovered eye trailed over the motley group of orphans, all waiting for his instructions. "All right. Get into teams of two. One person's going to be the injured, the other will wrap the bandages. After everyone's done, the roles will switch."

Kakashi took his place by Miko while the others got into pairs. One girl was left without a partner, so when Iruka returned with the supplies, he amiably agreed to let her practice on him.

Iruka smiled as he watched Kakashi try to explain the process to the children. The jounin reflexively used terminology that the youngest couldn't understand. But once he realized the problem, he was able to adopt simpler explanations.

The orphans hung onto Kakashi's every word (whether or not they actually understood it). Part of it certainly was his elite jounin status, but more than that, having realized that Kakashi was also Iruka's lawyer for the Sand-Leaf trials, the kids were enthralled by the ninja who had given them back their sensei.

"You want to be sure not to constrict the circulation," Kakashi explained, before pausing and adding, "That means it shouldn't be too tight." He demonstrated how he could still fit his finger under Miko's bandage. Then he pointed to another child, "Everyone, take a look here. Notice how _her_ skin is turning blue? Yeah…that's not good."

Iruka's head snapped up in alarm, but relaxed when Kakashi proceeded to unwrap the tight bandages and prompted the other to try again.

When every child had their turn, the Academy teacher was pleased that everyone had done reasonably well- even if some of the more zealous students had their partners wrapped liked mummies. Then there was the occasional child who thought bandages made good ropes… but the fact that the "ropes" were not cutting off their captive's circulation proved that even these had learned something from Kakashi's lesson.

Kakashi surveyed the scene before them. The children were wiggling and squirming out of their wraps and restraints. The older ones helped the younger fold the bandages and put them away. They were almost, dare he say it, cute.

A mummified six-year-old suddenly latched onto his pant leg, beaming up at him with a gap-toothed smile. "Thanks, Kakashi-sensei. That was fun."

Kakashi froze up as the child hugged him. The jounin simply did not know how to respond to that. Naruto had hugged him before…well, more like leapt on his back and cut off his oxygen supply…but he couldn't very well throw the little civilian like he had his genin. A pleading look toward Iruka only earned him a grin in return. The chunin was obviously not going to help him with this one. Finally Kakashi patted the child's head awkwardly. "Uh…you're welcome."

After another half hour of conversation and hijinks, the children were ready to return to their homes. Iruka, not wanting them to have to make the long trip alone in the dark, got ready to accompany them.

Kakashi's hand settled on his shoulder as he slipped on one of his sandals. "You've had a long day, Iruka-san. I'll walk them home."

"There's no need," the chunin protested quickly. "I don't mind doing it."

"It's no trouble," Kakashi assured. "I'm going home anyway, right? A few detours won't make much difference."

Iruka considered the offer. Though he didn't want to admit it, he _was_ downright exhausted. The chunin suspected this was _exactly_ why Kakashi was offering to take the children home, and part of him balked at the thought of being coddled.

Then again…Iruka's gaze swept over the little ones pushing their feet into scuffed up sandals. It would make them feel special, to be escorted home by one of Konoha's best ninja. Who was he to get in the way of that? "Okay, you can take them," the sensei conceded. "Just make sure they stay safe."

"Yes!" One of the older boys cheered. "Kakashi-sensei's coming with us."

"All right!"

Before the jounin had a chance to change his mind, fourteen excited youths swept him outside with them. Iruka watched from the door as a few of them scuffled for the privilege of walking by Kakashi's side, while the others launched into enthusiastic conversation. The jounin felt totally out of his element but, darn it, if a chunin could do this, then certainly _he_ could too! Right…?

Iruka smiled as the group moved out of sight. "Have fun, Kakashi."

* * *

Ibiki's lips thinned when Anko burst into his office, the door jarring against the wall before slamming back shut behind her. He could understand that, in order to cope with a career in T&I, one had to develop some eccentricities. He just wished _hers_ weren't so…loud.

Anko plopped into the wooden chair and tilted it back far enough to perch her feet on his desk. "I brought those reports you wanted."

He motioned for her to continue. "Let's hear it."

"First off, the prisoner in cell 3, block C is tougher than you thought, 'biki. It'll take at least another three weeks before we get anything halfway decent out of him." Anko tossed over the folder detailing their progress.

"We'll see about that." The head interrogator grunted as he scanned the notes. "Do I have any openings in my schedule?"

Anko flipped through some pages. "Hmm…well, you've got Saturday free."

"Then sign me up for the block C interrogation rounds."

"Do I look like a paperwork ninja?" the kunoichi scoffed. "Sign yourself up."

"Speaking of paperwork ninja," Ibiki continued, "What's the status on our latest Domestic Stabilization Project?"

"Oh...You mean Operation Friendship?" Anko teased, clasping her hands under her chin and batting her eyelashes.

"I _told _you to stop calling it that!" the large man growled.

"But it's too hilarious! Who ever heard of a big bad interrogator setting up ninja on play dates?"

Ibiki let out a longsuffering sigh. "Is it so difficult to understand the value of having the shinobi of our village stabilize each other? We can't depend on the psychologists to fix every tool that comes back dull and broken. Better to let…"

"…iron sharpen iron, so they don't lose their effectiveness in the first place," Anko finished for him. "I know, I know. I've heard it before."

"And _I'd_ like to hear the Domestic Stabilization Report sometime this year, Mitarashi." Ibiki warned.

The kunoichi dropped her feet back down to the floor and smiled conspiratorily. "Well, rumor has it that Hatake's been seen traipsing around the village with a troop of brats."

"Is that so?"

"Yup. He's also been spotted some days later at some of these brats' windows with bowls of vegetables. You know, like he used to do with Naruto?"

Ibiki nodded approvingly. "And what of his mission performance?"

Anko pulled another sheet from the folder in her hands. "The Copy Ninja has increased his mission load, since it's taking less time for him to recover fully between missions. Despite this, his endurance seems to be holding strong, both physically and mentally. His teammates claim that he's easier to work with and displays less tension." She paused, and scrunched her nose, "Huh. The Mission Room workers declined to comment."

"Excellent." The interrogator clasped his fingers together. "And Umino?"

At this, the kunoichi grinned. "There are reporting sightings of Iruka walking around the village…with his nose stuck in a book."

"Don't tell me…" Ibiki brought his fist down on the desktop. "I'll strangle that jounin! Umino's a _school teacher_. He can't go around reading that kind of thing in public!"

"Relax. It isn't _that _kind of book," Anko winked. "Just some stuffy old chronicle that's been out of print for ages."

She pulled out another document. "I've also got the results from his latest physical. His blood pressure's finally gone down to normal levels, even though he's still teaching brats. That man will never learn," Anko sighed pityingly. "Though it would seem he's dealing with the stress a bit better now. Oh, and the doctor scribbled some note on the bottom…" She squinted and tipped her head to the side, attempting to decipher the physician's scrawl. "…something about him reducing sodium consumption and straightening out his eating habits?" She shrugged.

Ibiki smirked, quite pleased with himself for yet another successful project.

Anko finished delivering the rest of the reports, then stood and stretched, interlocking her fingers and moving them above her head. "Well, that's everything you requested." She perched herself gingerly on the edge of his desk, knowing better than to scatter his paperwork. Leaning forward, she purred, "Is there anything _else_ I could do for you, 'biki?"

The shinobi didn't so much as bat an eye. "Yeah. Get out of here and do your job."

"Sheesh, all work and no play…" The young woman flitted to the door. Before leaving she poked her head back in and smiled foxily, "You're such a grump, 'biki. You really ought to enroll _yourself_ in Operation Friendship." Without waiting for his answer, she slammed the door, causing a jar on the interrogator's shelf to shake and clatter to the ground.

Ibiki sighed as he walked around the desk to replace the fallen object. "Why do you think I keep you around, Mitarashi?"


	6. Chapter 6

Iruka balanced the large stack of assignments in one arm, as he used the other to unseal the front door. It had been a _long_ day. His students had been afflicted with the Friday jitters, and could hardly be bothered to pay attention in their anticipation of getting out for the weekend. After staying behind with the detention kids, the chunin made his way to the Mission Room, which had been packed with shinobi who'd procrastinated turning in their reports, and wanted to get it over with before the weekend. Sometimes jounin could be as bad as pre-genin about turning in their work properly.

Iruka was looking forward to the weekend as well. He loved his students, but that two day reprieve from the classroom was quite welcomed. Not to mention he'd gotten his first Saturday off from the Mission Desk in several months. The sensei considered how to make use of this rare free day. When was the last time he had visited a hot spring?

The chunin suddenly noticed that he was not alone in the apartment. There was Kakashi, sleeping on the sofa.

Iruka couldn't help but sigh in relief. The Copy Ninja's return was overdue and he'd been starting to worry. Setting the papers down on the coffee table, Iruka knelt down and gently tapped his shoulder. "Welcome back, Kakashi-san."

The lack of response was his first clue that something was gravely wrong.

"Kakashi-san?" The shake on the shoulder was a little more firm this time. His heart quickened as he moved to tap the jounin's face. "_Kakashi?"_

His breathing was normal, but his pulse was slow, the languid beat of flowing blood only barely discernable. His skin was icy to the touch, yet soaked with sweat.

Iruka withdrew a shuriken from the holster on his thigh and nicked his own fingertip, quickly opening a summoning scroll. Tracing blood on the seal, the chunin called for his summon using the appropriate hand seals.

Smoke billowed up and quickly cleared, revealing a diminutive light brown sparrow with dark intelligent eyes; it's wings and head patterned with dark brown markings.

Iruka skipped the greetings. "Sora-san, I need you to fly to the hospital. Find a medic, preferably Tsunade-sama, and tell them…" he paused, having no idea what was wrong with the jounin, "Tell them Kakashi-san needs immediate medical attention. Bring someone back with you. Hurry!"

Sora chirped affirmatively and in her spry manner set off at once.

Confident that help would not be long in coming, Iruka turned his attention back to Kakashi, alarmed that his breathing was becoming increasingly labored. The jounin was lying on his side, and Iruka checked for signs of broken vertebrae that would make it unsafe to move him. Seeing nothing apparent, he risked rolling the man onto his back, relieving pressure from his chest that could hinder his lungs from expanding.

He hesitated as he looked at the mask, currently an obstacle to the Copy Nin's troubled breathing.

Kakashi had never shown Iruka his face. Could he betray the other's trust by removing that mask now?

The absurdity of his hesitance sunk in. Kakashi was having trouble _breathing._ He'd do whatever was needed to save the jounin's life. "Forgive me, Kakashi." With that, he pulled the mask downward, fully expecting to reveal horrid scars, disfigured flesh- some kind of deformity that the jounin needed to hide to keep from alarming people or getting stared at.

He was taken aback to find nothing of the sort. If people stared, it would be for an entirely different reason. The sensei hadn't time to notice much beyond the fact that the jounin was strikingly handsome. He opened Kakashi's mouth to make sure the air passage was clear before moving his examination downward.

Cutting away Kakashi's shirt, half-expecting the man to wake up and make some inappropriate joke, Iruka noticed several sluggishly bleeding wounds. He passed over these for the moment, looking for a more dangerous injury that could explain his current state. No punctures in his gut or lungs. No injury severe enough in itself to be life-threatening. Perhaps he'd merely passed out from a combination of blood loss and exhaustion?

The examination moved further downward. _Now would be a good time to wake up and embarrass me, _Iruka silently pleaded as he cut the fabric of Kakashi's pants, being careful not to pull at the fibers that were stuck to the abrasions on his legs, lest the wounds reopened. The chunin breathed in sharply when he finally discovered the culprit behind the jounin's state of unconsciousness.

A small laceration on the jounin's thigh, no longer than Iruka's thumb, had become inflamed. Much more ominous were the lines of red radiating outward from the wound and tracing up and down the leg. Poison.

The kunai that he'd used to cut through the fabric of Kakashi's pants was set aside, and Iruka withdrew a clean one to slice through the jounin's flesh. He made two incisions, crossing each other at right angles over the wound, and allowed the blood to flow. It was probably already too late for the poison to be cleared in this way, but there was little else Iruka could do until a professional took over.

While the blood flowed, the chunin hastened to retrieve his first aid kit. From among its contents, a dark bottle of acid was chosen. Iruka undid the seals that kept it locked and away from prying fingers. "It's a good thing you're unconscious, Kakashi-san, because this is going to sting."

Iruka wound a strip of cloth around the end of a fresh kunai and dipped it into the acid, then pressed the acid-soaked cloth directly over the poisoned wound. The flesh hissed and sizzled as it burned, the acid cauterizing the wound instantly. The bleeding was halted, the wound sterile, and the risk of infection greatly minimized. While the manner of treatment was somewhat cruel, leaving a poisoned wound to fester and decay was infinitely worse.

A series of _pops_ and chakra smoke announced the arrival of the medical team. Iruka hastily grabbed a clean cloth and threw it over Kakashi's face- the only part of the mostly naked jounin he felt obliged to cover. Immediately reporting his findings, the chunin stepped back and let them do their work.

* * *

Tsunade leaned over Kakashi's form, pressing a damp cloth against the jounin's now feverish brow and pouring chakra into his system. His body jerked and shuddered, struggling against death's grip. Once she was certain that she'd done all she could, the Hokage stepped out of the hospital room.

She was not surprised to see Iruka-sensei _still _pacing the waiting room. "Didn't I tell you to go home _hours_ ago? There's nothing you can do right now."

"How is he?" the chunin asked..

The Hokage frowned, not wanting to upset the clearly distraught man, but unwilling to lie to him either. "The brat's fighting. The poison has already spread through his system, but it's slow-acting and after some research I was able to administer a remedy."

"So…he's going to be all right?" Iruka pressed, unconsciously taking a step forward.

Tsunade averted her eyes. "We're not sure. To be honest… the remedy is almost as bad as the poison itself. It can destroy the venom, but can also harm his body. However, _if_ the venom is cleared from his system, I know that I can reverse the damage that the antidote will cause."

Iruka's fists clenched. "_If_? Are you saying the antidote might not work at all?"

"It's hard to say. He's had the poison in his system a long time," the Hokage explained. "It may not be eliminated all together."

The devastated look on the chunin's face made her wince in sympathy. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "He's a fighter, Iruka-sensei, and he's pulled through much worse than this. The only thing anyone can do now is wait."

Iruka shut his eyes tightly, "He was unconscious when I got home…" The sensei's voice was strained as he continued, "What if I had been there sooner?"

"This is _not_ your fault," Tsunade said sternly. "Kakashi-san should have gone straight to the hospital. He knows better."

"But this is what I was worried about in the first place. I shouldn't have made it so easy for him to get around going to the hospital." When Iruka opened his eyes, they were bright with unshed tears. "If anything happens to him, it _is_ my fault."

"Don't be ridiculous. If there's anyone at fault, it's the person who poisoned him, and I don't want to hear you say otherwise," Tsunade declared, crossing her arms.

Iruka said nothing for a moment. Finally, he swallowed and asked, "May I go in and see him now?"

The Hokage pressed her lips into a thin line. It's not that she wanted to deny his request, but seeing Kakashi in his current state would only distress him further. She did not want the sensei to sit and brood over his guilty feelings. But then, with Kakashi in as unstable a condition as he was, preventing Iruka from seeing him would be cruel. There might not be another chance.

"Umino-san," she began in a no-nonsense tone, "I insist that you to go home…"

He opened his mouth to protest, but she stayed him with an upraised hand.

"Let me finish. Go home, take a shower, drink some herbal tea and eat something if you can. Then, and _only _then, will I allow you in that room. Understand?"

"But…what if…"

"Nothing definitive is going to happen for the next several hours at least. I told you my conditions for visitation privileges. It's up to you to cooperate."

The sensei was clearly irritated, but held his tongue. With only the slightest of an inclination of his head, he turned abruptly and made his way home.

* * *

The pained cry from Kakashi caused the sensei to spring up and move to the other's side. Iruka pressed a damp cloth to the jounin's forehead, speaking to him soothingly despite knowing that he was too far gone to hear the words.

Once the copy ninja settled down to only quiet groans, Iruka glanced up at the clock once again. Fourteen hours now. Fourteen hours since the chunin had discovered the poisoned shinobi. Fourteen hours, and he was still no better. If anything, he seemed to be getting worse. When he asked the medics whether Kakashi might wake up soon, he could see the pity in their eyes as they evaded the question.

Iruka resumed his position on the floor, ignoring the empty visitor's chair. Stack after stack of paperwork lay spread out on the ground before him. After taking his promised shower and tea yesterday, Iruka had stuffed his messenger bag with work, knowing he'd need something to keep him occupied. The routine of paperwork had a numbing affect, preventing him from dwelling too much on his emotions while he waited.

And wait he did, remembering full well how Kakashi had stuck by his side in the Suna clinic after his surgery. The least he could do was be here for the jounin when he woke up.

Iruka was not the only one concerned about the Copy Ninja. Sakura was a regular visitor, showing up whenever she could get a break from her rounds. Tsunade cared a great deal for the jounin, but the demands on her time forced her visits to be infrequent. Several other jounin came by, some with flowers, but none lingering long. They resembled people paying their respects at a funeral more than someone visiting a sick friend. Iruka wished Gai was not away on a mission, suspecting that, if the Green Beast was in Konoha, no one could have prevented him from keeping vigil by his eternal rival's side.

The sensei suspected the reason behind the attitude of Kakashi's visitors reflected why few came to see Iruka when he was imprisoned. The jounin's fate was up in the air, and it was difficult to face that. Ninja tend to distance themselves from a person they felt they were about to lose. It was instinctual. A survival mechanism.

And as with the T&I cell, an age limit on visitors in the Intensive Care Unit prevented Iruka's kids from visiting. The orphans had come to accept Kakashi as an older, wiser brother. Or perhaps an eccentric uncle. Either way, the jounin had become a part of their makeshift family.

Iruka was used to being a mentor and father-figure, but his relationship with the jounin was decidedly different. Kakashi was the closest thing he had to a brother- someone with the audacity to taunt him, the solidarity to watch out for him, and the maturity to relate to him on his level. If he didn't make it through this...

The Academy teacher read over the same paragraph for the fourth time, before putting it down with a sigh. He'd been awake for over twenty-six hours, of which the last fourteen were spent fretting over Kakashi, and his focus was lacking.

A tiny bird discreetly entered the room, and Iruka immediately dropped his paperwork to hold out his hand. The brown sparrow perched on the edge of his fingers.

"Well, Sora-san? What did you find out?" Iruka was not technically Kakashi's family, nor was he a designated agent in the jounin's medical records. For that reason, the medics could justify being vague and evasive in their answers to the chunin's questions. This forced him to seek other avenues of information.

Sora was adept at uncovering information people didn't want to reveal. His little summon brought new meaning to the old saying "_a little birdie told me._"

His spy hopped along his finger and ruffled her feathers anxiously. "'Ruka… maybe you don't really want to hear this."

"Just tell me," Iruka prompted, tired of people tiptoeing around as though he'd break with the slightest distress.

"Promise to stay calm?" she twittered fussily.

"Stop being such a mother hen and tell me already!"

Her breast swelled indignantly, brown feathers fluffing out. "Don't take that tone with me, young man." Sora clicked her beak and continued, "If you must know, the latest test shows that the poison has already spread through his body faster than the antidote could act. All his fluids are contaminated, not just his blood. The poison is being absorbed into his body's cells, causing them to…what's the word…atrophy?"

Iruka's jaw clenched tightly. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet.

"Even Tsunade-sama can't find a way to rid the poison from his body- that's what she was telling Shizune-san, at least," Sora continued, keeping to herself the discussion she'd overheard about funeral arrangements. "It seems his only hope now is if his body can somehow fight the poison on its own, and the chance of that happening just isn't very good." She felt Iruka's hand tremble, and nipped his finger gently. "I'm so sorry, 'Ruka."

The chunin merely nodded again, his jaw already aching from the pressure and a stinging sensation developing in his eyes. Kakashi had warned him earlier, _"You know, Iruka… one of these days, I won't come back." _And as much as he'd told himself, and Kakashi, that he could accept that…

A shuddering breath escaped his lip as he pressed his fingers hard against closed eyes. To see Kakashi wasting away right before him…it was more than he could stand. He could do nothing but watch and wait as the damnable venom worked through his friend's system, killing him slowly.

Iruka walked numbly to Kakashi's side, watching silently for several minutes as the man fitfully slept.

Yesterday, the chunin had found a surgeon's mask and placed that over Kakashi's face. He wasn't sure why he felt compelled to continue to conceal those features, other than that it was obviously important to Kakashi. Brazenly baring his face to the world while unconscious would be a disservice to the man.

Kakashi was still in the grips of a fever, and his brow was soaked in sweat. Iruka wiped this away with a cloth, idly wondering if even the perspiration might be contaminated with traces of venom. He had the thought to throw as many blankets as he could find over the jounin in an attempt to sweat the poison out of him. But that wouldn't do nearly enough.

He watched more beads of sweat form on the pale skin. It reminded him of something. Something almost forgotten.

Iruka swallowed. Could something like that even work?

"Sora," he finally whispered, the lump in his throat preventing him from speaking any louder. "There's something at home I need to pick up. Watch over Kakashi-san for me. I'll be right back."

The sparrow flitted to the railing on the side of the hospital bed. "Take your time, 'Ruka. I'll stay right here."

"Thanks."

As he moved swiftly to the exit, his summon called out to him, "Make sure you get something to eat! Bring a change of clothes with you! And a pillow, so you won't be so uncomfortable. Oh, and don't forget to…"

Despite his anxiety, Iruka smiled to himself as the sound of her voice faded in the background. And people called _him_ a mother hen.


	7. Chapter 7

He knew this was extraordinarily risky. Even on his journey back to the hospital, Iruka wasn't certain that he'd go through with it. But once he walked into Kakashi's room to find Sakura weeping openly by her jounin sensei's side, his doubts dissolved.

The chunin comforted the tear-stricken girl as best he could before she needed to go back to her patients. He bided his time until the medic came through on his rounds, trying not shift impatiently while the man conducted his brief exam.

"How is he, doctor?" Iruka asked finally.

The medic looked at him solemnly. Finally, he just lowered his eyes and shook his head.

Iruka briefly nodded in understanding.

Once the medic was gone Iruka approached the door, looking down the hall in both directions before shutting it. His hand hovered over the knob as he considered whether to lock it as well, but decided against it. This could easily go wrong, and he'd want the medics to be able to enter quickly.

At Kakashi's bedside, Iruka used his own blood to unseal an old, yellowing scroll. The Umino family crest yielded to his genetic material and opened to reveal a manual on Hidden Mist jutsu.

His father had prepared this scroll for him. Iruka used these techniques in the past, back in his spying days, especially if he needed to impersonate Kirigakure ninja. A wide range of jutsu were described here, from the straightforward Water Cannon, to his precious Master Henge.

He perused the scroll until he came to the attack he'd been searching for: Water Style: Withering Death. This was a jutsu he'd learned years ago, but set aside because it drained too much of his own chakra for it to be useful in battle. If he were honest with himself, he knew another factor in that decision was that it turned his stomach to see his target literally wither up- eyes sinking into the skull, skin dry as parchment wrinkling and folding into itself- until the only thing left of the victim was a shriveled, skeletal form wallowing in a pool of fluids that had been forcefully extracted from the body.

Iruka reviewed the directives for the technique before setting the open scroll down on the bedside table. He slowly drew his chakra to his hands, warmth and light emitting from them. When he felt ready, the chunin extended his hands toward Kakashi's chest.

He never reached his intended target.

Instead, Iruka's breath was literally knocked out of him as a lithe figure rammed him against a wall. His arms were twisted roughly behind his back, causing the glow of chakra to die as he let out a pained gasp.

"I'll _kill _you!" A feminine voice hissed venomously.

Iruka had the impression that he'd heard this voice before. And the same phrase, come to think of it. He didn't have time to pursue that thought, as the owner of the voice increased the pressure on his arms, threatening to rip them from their sockets.

"No Racoon. You know we can't do that," a male voice responded. "We have to interrogate him first, at least."

Peripherally, Iruka caught sight of a large, solidly built ANBU and recognition came immediately. This was Fox, one of the two ANBU agents that had gone on the ill-fated mission to Suna with Kakashi and himself.

And that meant he was being restrained by none other than Raccoon, his mildly insane partner. She'd not become any less murderous since they last met, Iruka noted.

Fortunately, Raccoon did not challenge Fox's assertion that questioning was to precede killing. Turning the chunin so that his back was pressed against the wall, she barked, "Why the hell are you trying to assassinate Hatake-san?"

"I wasn't!" Iruka protested with difficulty, as he had still not entirely caught his breath.

The sensei faltered when he saw that Fox and Raccoon were not the other only ninja in the room. Three additional ANBU had rushed in as well…all of whom Iruka recalled as having been in Kakashi's squad at one time or another. Iruka distinctly remembered being irritated by the fact that none of Kakashi's ANBU comrades had been among those visiting.

"Just because we do not visit," the short Treefrog ANBU stated quietly, seeming to read his thoughts, "Doesn't mean we aren't here. Do you really think we would leave Kakashi-sempai vulnerable and unprotected?"

"Well, it's an admirable gesture," the chunin began, "But I wasn't attacking him…"

"Oh really?" The slender Bat ANBU interrupted. Swiping up the scroll, he scanned over the elder Umino's script. "That's interesting. Because the description here says this justu eliminates its targets by rapid dehydration. It literally pulls all the fluids from the victim's body. The skin and tissue dry up, the organ systems fail, the plasma in the blood drains…"

Bat moved to stand by Raccoon, leaning over the trapped chunin until his eerie mask was oppressively close to his face. "Sounds like an attack to me. Why don't you try your next story? Make it convincing this time."

"Well just _maybe_," Iruka snapped, "I was trying to modify the jutsu to extract the poison from his body without actually killing him. If it can drain water and other fluids, then why not poison?"

The ANBU became silent as they exchanged glances with one another. They seemed to be contemplating the trustworthiness of his assertion.

Fox, the current leader of this squad, finally answered for them all. "You really think that's doable?"

To his relief, Raccoon released him from her grasp and Bat took a step back, giving him some breathing space.

"Well, I've never heard of the jutsu being used this way," Iruka admitted nervously. "I kind of just made this up. But my chakra control has always been good, and I've enough medical training that I can recognize and differentiate the elements in the human body with chakra alone. I plan to alter my jutsu to discriminate against foreign toxins." Iruka rubbed his scar uneasily. "It's not simple, but in theory there's no reason why it shouldn't work."

"In _theory_?" the Lynx ANBU repeated, glowering from the shadowed corner of the room.

"It's a very sound theory," Iruka offered appeasingly.

Treefrog cleared his throat. "Isn't there someone else, with more medical experience, who could test this theory?"

"I'm the only one in the village who knows the base technique, with the possible exception of Kakashi-san himself." The chunin sighed, "Even if the jutsu in that scroll _weren't_ family secrets, there's not enough time to teach it to someone else."

The ANBU again exchanged glances.

It was not uncommon for medical ninja to modify their healing arts for attack. But using an attack to heal? It was little wonder that the sensei didn't try to request authorization for this move. Forgiveness for his impudence would be easier to obtain than permission.

"This is one bat-shit crazy chunin," the Bat ANBU concluded at length.

"Perhaps," Fox concurred, deep in thought. Then he straightened, decision made. "But I think we should let him try. Be on stand by in case something goes wrong. Should anything happen, I'll immediately alert the Hokage and bring her here."

"I'll monitor Hatake-sempai's vital signs," Lynx asserted.

"If this is a dehydration jutsu," Treefrog contemplated, "Then I'd better have everything set up for rehydration therapy."

"Well…if we're really going along with him," Bat sighed incredulously, "I'll stand watch and make sure no one walks in and interrupts. You realize we could all get into serious trouble for this, don't you?"

"Only if it doesn't work. If it succeeds, Tsunade-sama would hardly care _how_ we went about it," Fox said. "But if you- if _any_ of you- are unwilling to face the consequences of failure, leave now. This is your chance."

Bat hesitated. His eyes strayed to Kakashi's still form before facing his squad leader. "No. I'm in."

"And I," Lynx agreed.

"Count me in, sir," Treefrog saluted.

The leader turned to their only remaining member. "Well, Raccoon? Are you staying?"

"Of course. I have to monitor the chunin," Raccoon replied, crossing her arms. "I've seen him in action, and his chakra reserves are pathetic. I can give them a boost when necessary."

She leaned over Iruka's shoulder. Her rough treatment earlier had caused wisps of his hair to stray from his ponytail into his face. Raccoon daintily tucked these behind the sensei's ear, then brought her masked face closer to his. "But if you mess this up, I'll gauge out your eyes and then use the empty sockets to pry your brain out with a kunai," she hissed breathily.

Iruka blanched and cast a worried glance at Fox.

"Well, Umino-san, what are you waiting for?" Fox urged. "Time is not on our side."

"Right." Iruka breathed deeply and brought his attention back to the poisoned jounin in the hospital bed.

Raccoon's threat aside, the others' presence was actually reassuring. A paperwork chunin like himself had few dealings with the illustrious ANBU. Yet here they were, a team, bonded by their mutual care for someone so important to them. He couldn't help but smile. Looks like even the ANBU were not as emotionless as they made themselves out to be.

* * *

Ibiki growled as he read over the note on his desk. He had just walked into his office for his 3am shift Monday morning, and this was a lousy way to start his Monday. Opening his office door he called to one of T&I's paperwork ninja. "Shigeto-san, who put this letter on my desk?"

The red haired shinobi looked at the note in question. "Why, I did. A hospital messenger came by and asked me to give this to you. So I set it on your desk."

"Let me get this straight," Ibiki rumbled slowly. "You were asked to give this message to _me._ And you set it on my _desk_. Were you under the impression that I had henged into my desk?"

"Y-you weren't in!" Shigeto explained. "I knew that you'd see it right away once you got in."

"When did the messenger bring this in?"

"Uh…S-Saturday. Saturday evening, after you'd left for the day."

"And so you judged that it could wait until 3am Monday morning, when I next came in?"

"I…the messenger didn't say it was urgent…"

"Oh no, it wasn't urgent," Ibiki glowered menacingly. "It only concerns the life and welfare of two Konoha shinobi. Nothing too significant. I'm glad you let our messenger ravens have a break this time around."

By this time, the shamed ninja looked like he would have gladly sunk into the floor, were he adept at earth jutsu. Ibiki had no further time to waste, and took off at a brisk pace toward the Konoha Hospital.

"You know, that's why our assistants keep quitting," a female voice remarked. "One little mistake, and you flay them alive."

Ibiki rolled his eyes at Anko's remark. "I was only emphasizing the stupidity of his actions. If I wanted him flayed, I would have called you."

"Fun," the kunoichi grinned. "So where you running off to?"

Ibiki handed her the scroll. "See for yourself. The Domestic Stabilization Project backfired. I'll need you to take charge here while I attempt damage control."

The jounin was furious with himself. Never had he expected to have misjudged so badly. That's what he got for feeling so optimistic.

Kakashi was dying and Iruka was probably at the brink of breaking. Shizune was hoping Ibiki could talk some sense into the Academy teacher, who stopped sleeping or eating since the tradegy. Idiot chunin, as though destroying himself would help anything.

As for Kakashi, _that _idiot failed to go directly to the hospital, and Ibiki was willing to bet it had something to do with the strength of his relationship to Iruka. Maybe he put too much faith in the chunin's medical ability. Or maybe he felt compelled to stop there first, but passed out before he could leave.

How could he have thought this was a good idea? How could he have overlooked the fact that both these shinobi were too obsessively dedicated for their own good? Ibiki _hated_ to be proven wrong. If Kakashi made it out of this alive, he'd see to it that neither so much as _spoke_ to the other again!

* * *

It was the smell that infiltrated his consciousness first. That sterile, medicinal smell that somehow never succeeded in covering up the lingering tang of death. Venturing to open his right eye, the stark white lighting further confirmed his suspicions.

Kakashi was waking up in a hospital.

The jounin loathed hospitals. Not necessarily the medics (though they _could_ be aggravating pricks at times), but the place itself, the memories it carried, the _failures_ it reminded him of- and there were so many of those. He hated its smells, its sounds, its tastes. He despised the flimsy puke-green gown they made him wear.

A headache throbbed in his temples and behind his eyes. His tongue felt like sandpaper in his dry mouth. The drowsy jounin turned his head and caught sight of what he initially assumed was a medic but now discovered to be an ANBU.

"Treefrog?" Kakashi rasped, confused as to why he'd be here.

"At ease, Hatake-sempai," The shorter man was currently replacing the bag on his intravenous drip. "Don't try to move too much just yet."

When he finished switching the bag, he slipped an arm under Kakashi's shoulders, helping him sit up. The other hand slid the neck of a canteen under the surgeon's mask on Kakashi's face, bringing it to his lips. "I need you to drink this, sempai. You're very badly dehydrated."

The liquid had an odd sweetness and a bit of saltiness to it as well. The moment it slid down his throat, the jounin recognized how desperately thirsty he was and reflexively tried to gulp it down. Treefrog maintained control though, and forced him to swallow a little at a time.

Kakashi drank for what seemed a long time, before he leaned back and sighed. "You've always been a decent field medic. When did you start working in the hospital?"

Treefrog didn't answer immediately. Instead he pointed across the room.

The Copy Nin turned his head, and blinked questioningly at the strange sight before him. There was Iruka, sleeping in the plastic chair. The chunin's head was tilted fully back, resting on the wall behind him. His mouth was slightly open, and he looked like he could use a shave.

Treefrog proceeded to explain what had transpired, from Kakashi's admittance to the hospital up until Iruka's unconventional method of draining the poison.

"He put your system through a very thorough detoxification," Treefrog concluded. "And not just the poison. Your skin is really clear, and you've probably never had a cleaner colon."

Kakashi chuckled, but winced when he felt a painful tightening in his chest. "So why do I feel like I've been flattened by an Akimichi clansman?"

Treefrog nodded. "The poison did a lot of damage before it was removed. And the chunin didn't have the jutsu entirely refined either. You were suffering from extreme dehydration before I got to work on you. It will take time before your body recovers."

"And Iruka-san. How is he?" Kakashi inquired, concerned that the sensei hadn't stirred once during the conversation.

"Don't worry about him, sempai," Treefrog assured lightly. "The chunin hadn't slept since he brought you here on Friday. It's Sunday night, or Monday morning to be precise. Raccoon was here earlier and…persuaded him to rest."

"Persuaded?" He knew Raccoon's methods of persuasion could be brutal.

"Just a jab at his pressure points. Nothing to be concerned about." The ANBU checked over Kakashi one more time. "After the lengths Umino-san went to make sure you pulled through, even Raccoon would hesitate to harm him unduly."

Finally, Treefrog placed a hand on the copy nin's shoulder, "Kakashi-sempai, I have to notify the Godaime that you've woken up. A hospital medic should be in soon."

Kakashi nodded and watched as the other man took his leave through the window. The jounin then turned his gaze back to the slumbering chunin. He felt a twinge of guilt, knowing it was his fault that the sensei looked so worn out and haggard. Kakashi would have to be more careful about showing up half-dead in Iruka's apartment, if this was how he was going to react.

The jounin tentatively sat up, testing his body's response to a shift in position. Once the dizziness wore off, he removed the intravenous drip and ventured to place one foot, then another, onto the floor. Carefully rising to his feet, Kakashi managed to keep himself standing steady. He grinned. If he could stand up, then there was nothing stopping him from leaving.

The grin faded when he glanced back guiltily at Iruka.

The chunin had spent over two days waiting for him to come around, and that sleeping position he was in looked spectacularly uncomfortable. No doubt the sensei was in for a stiff neck and sore muscles when he woke.

With a resigned sigh, the jounin instead made his way to the younger man's side, carefully lifting him and setting him on the hospital bed. The chunin was so deeply asleep, he barely stirred. _Now_ Kakashi might have taken his leave, but that exertion had cost him greatly. He sank wearily into the plastic chair that Iruka had formerly occupied. He may as well wait around until the chunin woke up.

Not a minute passed before the medic walked in. He frowned, looking from the shinobi in the hospital bed to the other in the visitor's seat, confusion clear in his eyes. He glanced down at his medical chart before finally shaking his head. "I believe _you're_ the patient here, Hatake-san."

Walking toward Iruka, the medic extended his hand to shake the chunin's shoulder, "So I'll just…"

"Move him and I'll rip your head off," Kakashi conversationally warned, his eyes crinkled in a sharp crescent smile. He didn't always come home from missions in the best of moods.

The medic immediately withdrew his hand, placing it behind his head and rubbing his hair nervously. "Well then, I'll just check you right there, shall I?" he wisely adapted.

After the brief examination, the doctor told him exactly what Treefrog had said earlier: the poison was gone, but his body was still suffering from the effects, damaged and badly dehydrated. He needed to drink lots of fluids. And, of course, they wanted to keep him for overnight observation and testing.

"I suggest you lay down and rest…when you get your bed back," the medic added uneasily. He was in such a hurry to get out that, when he did leave, the door slammed harder than normal. The noise was enough to rouse the chunin from his sleep.

Kakashi glared at the door while Iruka groaned and reached out for a non-existent alarm clock. It took him a moment to realize where he was, but once he did the chunin leapt out of bed. "What are you doing, Kakashi-san! You should be resting!" The sensei practically roared in indignant fury. Kakashi would have found it comical, if his head didn't feel like someone had driven a stake through his temples.

"I _am_ resting," the jounin replied languidly, tapping the armrest of the plastic chair.

"But you should be in bed." Iruka was not to be deterred. "You shouldn't push yourself or you'll damage your health."

"I could say the same about you," Kakashi frowned, recalling Treefrog's account. "Going without rest or food, just to watch me sleep. What were you thinking?"

"What was _I_...?" The chunin shook his head in outrage. "You're asking me what was _I _thinking?" Iruka repeated. "What were _you_ thinking, dragging yourself to my house when you were _poisoned?_ You _know_ I'm not equipped to deal with that!"

His fists clenched and Iruka shivered from the repressed anxiety he'd carried the last two days. He didn't mean to shout at the recently awakened jounin, but he couldn't keep the words back. "What if I had been away on a mission? What if you had _died_ in my living room before I made it home?"

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. Wasn't the answer was obvious? "If I had died, it would be my own fault, not yours." Hoping to set the man at ease, he added, "But since I didn't die, there's no use worrying about it, ne?"

The vein throbbing in the chunin's temple told him that his tactic wasn't successful.

Kakashi sighed. "In my defense, I wasn't thinking very clearly when I came back. The poison made my mind hazy and my thoughts were muddled, so I…" He paused staring down at his bare feet.

In his poison-induced daze, Kakashi had gone where he instinctively felt safe. It was a disconcerting thought. "I…just followed my usual routine," he finished finally. "And it was the right choice anyway since, from what I've heard, you're the reason I'm still alive."

This placated the sensei somewhat. The tension drained from his shoulders as he let out a shuddering breath and tired smile. "It's good to see you awake, Kakashi-san, but you really should be in bed." He moved to the chair where the jounin was seated and slid an arm around his waist for support, "Here, let me help you."

"There you go again- still can't keep your hands to yourself," Kakashi jibbed lightly.

"Oh, shut up." It was such a relief to be teased again, Iruka's response lacked any fire whatsoever. He made sure the jounin climbed back into the hospital bed where he belonged and handed him a cup of rehydration fluid.

"Where are my uniform and sandals?" the jounin inquired casually, once the content of the cup was drained.

Iruka raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Why do ask?"

"No reason. I just don't see them, so I was wondering."

The suspicion didn't lessen, but he answered the question anyway. "Your uniform is destroyed. I cut it away to get to your wounds." Iruka confessed. "And Sakura-chan hid your sandals once it became apparent that you were actually going to wake up. She said she didn't want you leaving the hospital early."

Kakashi frowned. "Where'd she hide them?"

"You're not seriously thinking about leaving!" Iruka placed his hands on his hips and scowled.

"Where?" the Copy Ninja stubbornly insisted.

"You'll have to ask her." Iruka was now re-inserting the IV needle. "Keep this on, would you?"

Kakashi frowned at the hateful needle, "I suppose I can comply with that request for a while. I obviously owe you."

"Owe me? You saved me first, Kakashi-san," Iruka smiled. "So let's just call it even."

The jounin tilted his head, considering. "Are you talking about the trial? Because if you remember, you hadn't been sentenced to death. I only preserved your freedom, so we couldn't be even."

"But what's life without freedom?" Iruka philosophically countered.

"That would be called 'hospitalization,'" Kakashi sighed.

The chunin laughed. "Well, you'll have to deal with that for a while longer, I'm afraid." He looked up at the wall clock, noting the early hour. "Now that I know you're going to be all right, I can get ready for class. It starts in just a few hours, but I'll be back to check on you when school's over."

"You can't be serious," the jounin scowled. "You're going to go teach?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Iruka glanced up at the clock again. Just a little after 3am.

"Because you've recently performed a dangerous and draining jutsu, your emotions are frayed, and you haven't eaten or slept for more than a couple of hours in the last three days," the Copy Nin tersely recounted, "That's why."

Iruka falters. "Well…when you put it _that_ way…it almost sounds foolish."

"You think?"

Iruka runs a hand over his hair. "You don't understand Kakashi-san. I _have_ to go to work. I can't rest now. I'm too stressed."

"I believe that's what rest is for: relieving stress," the jounin observed. The look on Iruka's face told him that, while the chunin intellectually consented to the point, it was still difficult to apply.

Finally, Kakashi resolved to propose a deal. It would be a sacrifice on his part, but when one already sacrifices for grand, impersonal concepts like country, security, and at least the illusion of peace- the thought of sacrificing for a living, breathing _person _(friend, his mind helpfully supplies,) was not so troublesome.

* * *

Ibiki's mood was sour as he took the stairs three at a time, heading toward the third floor. According to the nurse, the Copy Ninja had recently woken up. Ibiki would need to make it up there quickly if he hoped to see the man before his inevitable escape.

The interrogator sharply rounded the corner of the stairwell, and only years of shinobi training prevented him from bowling over the oncoming person. He had, uncharacteristically, not been focused on his surroundings. Prepared to brush the man off and continue toward his objective, Ibiki stopped short when he realized the man before him _was_ one of his targets.

"Umino. Where do you think you're going?" the interrogator barked. Not as though he needed to ask. If Kakashi was awake, and it being early Monday morning, he knew instinctively that Iruka intended to prepare for his day of teaching.

The chunin bowed quickly, almost causing him to fall down the stairs in his exhaustion, but managing to straighten without incident. "My apologies, Ibiki-san. I didn't mean to nearly walk into you. I'm just a little tired."

Ibiki did not bother to point out that it was _he_ who nearly walked into Iruka. "You didn't answer the question."

"I'm going home for some desperately needed sleep." Iruka admitted somewhat guiltily. "I already sent a message to the Mission Desk to arrange a substitute for my class."

The jounin had been ready to respond with a scathing remark, and thus was put off when he didn't need to use it. "And I suppose I'm too late to find the Copy Ninja in his room?"

"Kakashi-san? Oh, he's still here." Iruka said.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Ibiki grumbled. However the telling look on the chunin's face told him there was reason behind his claim. "Or should I be?"

"Ah, well," Iruka smiled and brought his hand up behind his neck. "Kakashi-san and I came to…an understanding of sorts."

"Which is…?"

"He agreed to remain in the hospital for the duration of the medic's tests. And I agreed to take the day off, and not run myself into the ground," Iruka rubbed his scar self-consciously. "You know, I honestly hadn't realize how bad I had gotten until I saw how much it bothered Kakashi-san. I mean, for him to agree to stay in a hospital he must be concerned."

"Indeed," Ibiki murmured, more to himself. "I won't keep you then, Umino. Go home."

Iruka bowed before taking his leave. "Just so you know, Kakashi-san has visitors at the moment. Some of his old ANBU buddies." He chuckled. "Fox said he wants to make sure Kakashi-san makes good on his end of the bargain."

Ibiki nodded and made his way up the rest of the stairs. It figured that Kakashi needed an ANBU guard to keep him in this facility.

The interrogator approached the door of the Copy Nin's room when the sound of laughter gave him pause. That sounded like…Kakashi.

Hatake? Laughing? In a _hospital_?

The unmistakable voice of Bat reached his ears next. That man was loud for an ANBU, and it seemed that something he said earlier had triggered the laughter.

Finally, Ibiki stepped back. Kakashi socializing with his old teammates…that was not something he wanted to interrupt.

* * *

Anko eyed the large package before her dubiously. "You brought dango? For the whole office?" She looked up at Ibiki suspiciously. "Is it poisoned?"

"No, it's not poisoned," the scarred jounin sighed. "I was feeling generous, that's all."

"Hm," Anko took the box in her arm, wondering if she should set it out in the breakroom like he wanted her to do, or secret it away and eat it herself. The only thing stopping her from the latter was that eating _that_ much dango would certainly give her a stomach ache.

"May I ask _why_ you are suddenly in such good spirits, when you looked like you wanted to murder someone when you left? Who'd you kill? And why didn't you let _me_ help?"

The head interrogator scoffed. "Nothing like that. It's just the latest Domestic Stabilization Project proved successful. I'm enjoying the satisfaction of being right."

"Oh."

Anko grinned, taking the box out into the hallway. Her astonishingly loud voice echoed through the building. "Hey everyone, we're celebrating! Free dango, courtesy of 'biki and Operation Friendship!"

* * *

A/N: I don't know who originated the phrase "bat-shit crazy jounin," or I would give them credit here. I've seen the phrase pop up from time to time, and thought it's be funny for a jounin to say it of a chunin.

Well, there you have it. This story could probably continue indefinitely, but this felt like a good place to end. Thank you to _everyone_ who has taken time to leave comments and let me know what you think.


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